Coal Covered
by jennycaakes
Summary: Gale and Madge have finally started their lives together in the Seam. Already off to a rocky start, how will these lovers stay bound together? Marriage problems are the least of their worries as the country around them secretly works to overthrow the government. Can they make it through? Sequel to Faded Lines, but can also stand alone.
1. Foggy Mirrors

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games. **

* * *

_This story is technically a sequel to my other story Faded Lines. However, it can also stand alone. Faded Lines will be referenced, but all things needed to know should be explained._

* * *

He loves her.

He loves the way her golden hair glows in the sunlight. He loves the light dusting of her freckles across her nose. He loves the way she nibbles on her bottom lip when she's frustrated, the way her fingers tug on the tips of her hair. He loves the little wrinkle between her eyebrows. He loves the blue he sees in her eyes, a mix of an aquamarine ocean and a starry night. He loves the pink of her cheeks whenever he kisses her. He loves the feeling of her skin against his on a cold morning. He loves her wit and her smile and her laugh.

Most importantly, he loves the ring on her finger that marks her as his until death do them part.

But he _hates _her cooking.

Other than the fact that she can't make a dinner to save her life, being married to Madge is all that he hoped it would be. Gale loves her more now than he did all those weeks ago when they made it official. Every day he discovers something else about her that he hadn't known before. Every day he watches her grow into a more determined, more enticing version of herself.

Sometimes he'll come home to their tiny shack to find her humming a melody to herself as she sweeps the coal dust from the spot where he leaves his boots, and if not there then doing some other chore to clean it up a bit. She works hard and Gale loves her for it.

_But her cooking_.

Today is like every other. He comes home seventeen minutes past six and kicks his shoes off next to the mat inside. Gale hangs his tattered leather jacket on the hook by the door and his cracked helmet right next to it. Madge's quiet lovely voice is radiating from the bathroom, singing some song he hasn't heard before, and the smell of pine cleaner is overwhelming. As quietly as he can, Gale creeps over the floorboards that he knows creak to get a better view.

She's in a shirt a bit too big for her, one of his old ones that she usually wears to bed. Her hair is messily tied into a bun in one of her old ribbons, one that was once pink but even after such a short time in the Seam has already faded and grayed. Madge is on her tiptoes and in front of the mirror on the wall. She's trying her damned hardest to get a thin layer of coal from the face of the mirror, but it just isn't working.

"Might need my pick axe to get that off," he says quietly. Madge leaps at the sound of his voice, sliding on her socks and stumbling to stand up properly. Gale grins at how disheveled she is and takes a step toward her. "That mirror is never going to see the light of day again, Madge."

"It will if I make it," she returns. She crosses the rest of the floor to him and stands on her tiptoes again, pressing a quick kiss to his bottom lip and wiping a bit of dust from his left eyebrow. "How was work?"

"The same as it always is." Repetitive. Exhausting. Bothersome. Gale tilts his head toward the kitchen and sniffs once. "Started on dinner yet?"

Madge pulls away from him with ease and lifts her shoulders slightly. "No," she responds. The blonde makes her way back to the mirror and dips her rag into the bucket again. "You can cook tonight." Gale cocks an eyebrow and leans into the doorframe, watching his wife methodically scrape at the reflective glass.

"Can I?" he asks. Gale knows that he's baiting her.

"You're much better at it than me," she hums. Madge acts as though she's speaking casually. "The faces you make whenever you take a bite of my food are proof of that."

Gale expects to feel like he's been punched in the gut, but at this point he's gotten more used to Madge's biting remarks. It was meant to sting him, instead he just feels guilty. "That obvious?"

"That obvious," she nods. Madge sighs loudly and slumps onto the sink under the mirror. "You knew when you married me that I wasn't-that I'm not…" she sighs again. Gale takes a step toward her and slides his hands onto her hips, dragging her backwards against his body. "I was waiting for you to say something and you never did," Madge mutters.

"I was hoping you'd get better," Gale retorts. Madge grumbles a bit as he drops his chin down to her shoulder. In the mirror their reflection is foggy. Clean enough that they can see themselves but not yet picture perfect. "I was _going_ to say something," he insists. Not today, of course, but maybe tomorrow. "We knew there'd be things to work on."

"I know."

"So we can work on it." Madge wrinkles her nose as he kisses the side of her face. "I'll cook tonight and you can watch. Take notes or whatever it is you do." Before she can slip from his arms he tightens his grip only slightly. "Madge," Gale whispers. "You're doing great. Okay? You don't have be perfect at everything."

Living in the Seam has been tough for her, Gale knows that. She was born and raised into District 12 royalty as the mayor's daughter, had to give up her entire life to marry Gale. She even gave up her _family_, considering that her father disowned her at the news of her engagement, but she's taking it overly well. She smiles and cleans and goes to her teaching job in town and cooks (to the best of her ability) and impresses him day after day.

"I'm not trying to be," she whispers back. "I just…I just don't want you to think that I'm useless."

"I know you're not useless," Gale murmurs. He kisses her neck. "You know you're not useless, too." Madge tilts her head sideways a bit and exposes her collarbone to Gale. His lips eagerly slide across her skin and she sighs, the noise causing Gale to smile. "Some things just take a little getting used to." She nods solemnly before placing the dirty rag back into the bucket. They start off to the kitchen together.

* * *

Madge rolls her shoulders forward and sighs as they crack. She rests her elbows on the edge of her desk and drops her head into her hands, taking in a long deep breath.

Her students are gone for lunch and she knows she should eat as well, she's just so _tired_. She wants to nap so badly, and yet she knows if she doesn't eat the food she's packed for her own meal then it will go to waste. Wasted food is not something she can afford now. In fact, she can barely afford _fresh_ food.

She and Gale's combined paycheck allows them to live a bit more luxuriously than some others in the Seam, just not _that_ luxuriously. It is the Seam after all, and they have to spend most of their money renovating their home.

She sighs again and massages her temples. The springs on their mattress make her back hurt and their woolen blankets are starting to give her a rash on the back of her thighs, but that's not something she's going to mention. Gale feels awful enough that she's living in the Seam, she doesn't want to make it worse. Madge can power through the little things, she's going to have to get used to everything eventually.

"Miss Undersee," a voice suddenly calls out. Madge sits up so quickly that her back cracks in places she didn't know could actually crack. "Oh," the man in her door pauses. "My apologizes. Mrs. Hawthorne."

Madge readjusts herself in her seat and plasters her typical smile on her face. "Mr. Wentworth," she says. The overseer of education. The man who reports back to the Capitol. "May I help you with something?"

He eyes her once before taking a step into the room. She sits up _even straighter_. "Just came to see how you were doing." He's a man she doesn't like. Not a peacekeeper and yet still a man with power, too much power. He decides what is taught in school. He decides if she's teaching it to the best of her ability. He's the man who decides if she should keep her job or if they should hire another. "With your marriage and move and whatnot, that is."

"Wonderfully," she smiles brightly. "It's very kind of you to ask." And also very terrifying. What's her personal life to him?

"Splendid," he smiles back. It doesn't have a friendly air to it. Forced and mechanical. "I just wanted to remind you to start preparing the children for the Victory Tour." Wentworth takes another step into the room. "This year we really want to drive into their tiny heads about the different types of muttations we have in our arenas."

"Of course," she nods. Madge keeps her eyes trained on the mousy man in front of her. His caramel colored hair is slicked back, his square glasses are thick. She swallows back all of her terror and smiles again. "We can start after lunch, if you wish."

"Excellent!" Mr. Wentworth takes a step backwards and tips his head. "Mrs. Hawthorne, you are truly one of our better teachers in this institution." His proximity unnerves her. "You're so dedicated to educating these miscreants who couldn't care less about what you're saying." She swallows every bitter remark she wants to spew out and keeps her smile tight. "And the fact that your would-have-been brother-in-law was a tribute in these past Games and you still teach with such a fervor!" He smacks his hand down on a desk and causes her to jump. "Incredible."

Madge lets out a shaky breath. "Thank you, sir. I aim to please."

"I'll check in with you again later, Mrs. Hawthorne," he tells her. "You're doing a wonderful job."

And with that, he's gone. Madge isn't very tired anymore.

* * *

As Gale cooks dinner he explains to his wife certain aspects of the meal. _The fire can't be too high for this sort of stew or it will burn what sinks to the bottom. Too little salt is always better than too much salt, you can always add more later. Remember to stir the entirety of the pot, not just the surface_.

"Madge," he grumbles. The blonde looks up at him from where she was staring. Her eyes were _not_ on him, he doubts she was listening at all. "I thought you wanted to learn how to cook."

"I do," she insists. "I was listening!" Gale lifts his eyebrows at her and she sighs, dropping her gaze from him again. "I'm distracted, that's all." He crosses their tiny kitchen to her and takes the seat next to her, reaching out and enveloping her hand with his. "It smells great," she says encouragingly. He can see that her eyes aren't as bright as they normally are, but then again they really haven't been since the marriage. "I'm sure it tastes even—"

"Madge," Gale murmurs. She sighs again and turns her hand so their fingers lace. He runs his thumb over the soft padding of her inside palm. This is a place where the coal has yet to find her, her skin is still creamy white and smooth. "What's wrong? You know it'll just take some lessons and you'll be a master chef."

"It's not the cooking," she says, rolling her eyes. Without any hesitation she tells him, "Mr. Wentworth visited me at school the other day and I can't stop _thinking_ about it."

"Wentworth?" Gale repeats. He gives her hand a supportive squeeze before going back to the pot. "Your overseer?" Madge nods, her golden curls shaking along with her. "What the hell did _he_ want?"

Madge lifts her shoulders and exhales deeply, lifting her hands to rub at her temples. "Changed the curriculum a bit. I've been teaching about muttations and it's scaring the kids half to death." She shakes her head, clearly having suffered the effects of her lesson as well. "He even mentioned Vick to me," she adds softly. Gale tenses at his brother's name.

"What for?" he barks.

"To throw me off, probably."

Vick. Dammit, Gale misses Vick every single day. His baby brother unrightfully reaped at the age of 18 just this past year to be thrown into the Hunger Games. Almost made it out, too. He had charm and smarts, was very capable of making his way out of the arena. Made allies that became friends. Katniss tells Gale it was best Vick didn't come home, but Gale doubts that every day. He'd give anything to see his brother just one more time.

"I shouldn't have mentioned it," Madge murmurs. Gale's brought back to the present at his wife's voice. His eyes focus on the dusty rafters and uneven floorboards as he reminds himself to breathe. The loss of Vick wasn't even three months ago. It's still an open wound on Gale's heart. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Gale says. He returns to stirring the stew. Vick's presence is still very strong throughout the District. He's not entirely gone. Gale changes the subject back to Madge. "Why'd Wentworth change the curriculum?"

"I don't know," she answers. Madge chews on her bottom lip and stares at the flames under the pot. "He also mentioned the Victory Tour." The Victory Tour? That's not for at least another month or two. "I just have this weird feeling that something's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," he tells her. Except maybe the fact that he's cooking dinner at 9 o'clock on a Friday and he has to work tomorrow. At this rate they won't be in bed until 11. "Probably just wants to make sure everything is in line. You know?"

"I guess." Madge wrinkles her nose and looks back at her husband. "So what were you saying about the salt?"

* * *

Gale wraps his arms tightly around his wife, sighing into her neck as the sky lightens with the approaching dawn. She wiggles a bit, her back resting against his chest, before letting out a quiet yawn. "Are you awake?" Gale whispers. Madge groans in response and squeezes her eyes shut, trying to fall back asleep. Today is Sunday. She can sleep in. He can't, though. "I'm going to go out," he tells her. "Be back sometime this afternoon. Alright?"

"Kay," she says with another yawn. Despite having said he can go, Madge curls further into him and clings to his shirt. Gale chuckles as she rolls to face him, burying her face into his chest. "Later."

"I have to go _now_, Madge."

"Later," she repeats tiredly. "Can't you just skip one Sunday? Stay in bed with me?" Her voice is so pleading it tugs on his heart. "_Please_?"

She doesn't understand how badly he _wants_ to skip a Sunday in the woods. He wants to stay with her all morning, curled up under the sheets with nothing but her to worry about. He wants to drink in her scent and run his hands through her hair and kiss every inch of her skin.

They just can't _afford_ it.

If he doesn't use the cover of the dawn to sneak over the fence then he'll never get into the woods, and they need the game that his snares have caught. They need it so he can make trades in the Hob and so they have more food to put on the table and so he can _feed_ her like she used to be fed. So they can make money and so they can rise above the poverty of the Seam.

"Not today," he murmurs. Madge sighs and squeezes her eyes shut, falling away from him in defeat. "Madge," he exhales tiredly and reaches for her hip. "You know I want to. Right?" She nods once, but her face is still filled with disappointment. "I love you," he tells her.

"I love you too," she returns softly. Madge peeks up at him through her golden eyelashes and tries her hardest to smile. Knowing that his words won't help the situation, Gale bends down and kisses her quickly. "Come home early?"

Gale kisses her nose before nodding. "I'll try my best."

He slips out of bed without another word and watches as she curls into the spot where he once laid, absorbing his warmth. Her face is contorted disappointment and exhaustion, and again he feels guilty for having to go. Gale hasn't had a morning with Madge since right after their wedding and he hates it.

Quickly he dresses in his hunting gear, refusing to let his gaze fall back to the blonde he's leaving home. He once thought that being married to Madge would mean more time together, but it almost feels like less. They talk about their day over dinner and cuddle on the couch before bed, but it all feels very mechanical. It's not like it was before when he would sneak to her house in the middle of the night for a few kisses. That sense of secrecy is gone.

With a final glance over his shoulder at Madge, Gale slips into the morning.

* * *

He can't stop thinking. Gale goes in the woods to clear his mind, but today he just can't stop _thinking_. He thinks about Madge and how he should be trying harder to be a better husband. He thinks about Vick and how it isn't fair that his baby brother was stolen from this world. He thinks about his mother and Posy who now live on their own and how they're getting through the days. He thinks about the Victory Tour that will be rolling into District 12 soon, how he'll have to sit on a stage and watch the girl that killed his brother make a speech.

His hands slip on the snares and he loses the knot. He stumbles as he makes his way through the trees. He breaks one of his arrows.

Gale is entirely too distracted today.

Deciding that he needs to take a breather, Gale makes his way over to the river he once took Madge to. He drops his hunting bag on the ground and follows soon after. If it wasn't getting so damn cold out he might dip his feet in the water, but today that's not an option.

It was in this very spot she admitted her feelings for him, in this very spot that they kissed for the first time. How long ago was it that things were so natural? That they could talk freely about things that weren't cooking or work? Gale drops his head into his hands and tugs at his hair.

He loves her, he does, but it's different now and he hates it.

No, no, that's not true. He doesn't hate it. This is just a different type of love. It's not as fiery, not as passionate. It's a muted version of what they once had. Is that what being married does to people? It can't be. There's got to be something left of how it was. Not that the way he loves her now is awful, it's just not the same. He's conflicted and confused as to what he wants.

As Gale thinks and thinks and thinks about how he can revive the passion he and Madge once shared he stares at the stream and watches it flow.

He's so distracted that he doesn't even notice the wild dog approach him from behind.

* * *

_A/N: Well, here we are! The long awaited sequel to Faded Lines is finally here. All reviews and criticism are appreciated. My goal is to update this fic at least once a week, but I'm currently transitioning into college (what?!) and don't know if that will ring true or not. A big thank you to everyone who's stuck with me thus far, you're the reason I write! I hope you're just as excited for this story as I am._


	2. Bloody Rags

He's late.

Madge knew when she asked Gale to be home early that he wouldn't be, but she didn't expect him to be _late_ either. It's almost 9 o'clock for crying out loud and he still hasn't shown his face. Madge understands that he needs his time alone, she really does. His week is stressful and underground and the woods are the only place in which he can really breathe, but he could have at least warned her that he was going to be gone the entire day!

With a deep breath Madge collects herself. They haven't been married _that_ long, they still have a few communication things to work on. She knows that. But _honestly_?

The blonde twists her wedding ring and glances toward the pot she put on earlier. It still isn't even boiling. Her fire making skills are right about up there with her cooking skills, filed under: needs improvement. These are things that can be worked on as well, right? Communication and cooking and fire making. And maybe sewing and patience and… she sighs again.

Madge pulls the cutting board down from the cabinet and rests it on the counter. She's going to have to make dinner. She doesn't mind, really, it'll just taste a little… off. Madge will use what Gale's taught her, though, and hopefully it won't be tragic.

Just as she reaches for an onion to start chopping away on, she hears the door creak open. Instead of being relieved like she should be, anger sparks in her veins.

"Look who decided to show up," she calls over her shoulder. The bitterness in her voice is palpable. She lifts the knife and slices the onion in front of her in half as loudly as she can. "For Christ's sake, Gale," she continues without even spinning around. "How much time do you _need_ out there?" _Chop chop chop. _"I spend all day cleaning and doing everything I can around this house to make it more livable and you're just out all day doing God knows what in the wilderness."

"Madge."

She's too fired up to stop, too livid to even _hear_ him. All this pent up anger from the past month that hasn't been addressed is _spilling_ out of her. "It's like you're not even trying anymore! And all I _do_ is try! Day after day I put in so much effort and it's like you don't even _care_, like you have something so much better to be doing!"

"_Madge_."

She throws her hands up in the air and shouts, "What!" Immediately she regrets her words. "Oh, God." The knife slips from her hand and barely misses her foot. "What…" he's covered in blood. His shirt is torn to pieces; his face is paler than it's ever been. "What happened?" Madge rushes forward, the breath being knocked out of her entirely.

His voice is rough as he asks, "Is anything in that water yet?" Madge glances over her shoulder briefly at the pot above the flames and before returning to him, answering with a _no_. Her hands shake as she reaches toward him, but he only shrinks away. "Good. Take it off, we'll need it."

"We need to get you to Prim," Madge blurts. She's frozen, staring at the wreck of a man in front of her. Sweat is beading on his forehead and upper lip, his pupils are dilated. "Now."

"Get the damn water off the fire," Gale nearly growls. Madge is so startled by the hostility in his voice that she jumps and rushes toward the fire. "There're peacekeepers _everywhere_," he continues weakly. Gale props his elbow up and lowers his head onto his hand. "Too risky to go to Prim tonight." Her oven mitts aren't very thick and she nearly drops the pot as she takes it off. The water might not have been boiling but the pot heated up a lot faster. "I considered it before coming home."

"What happened?" Madge repeats. Her voice is filled with the utmost worry, her fingers are shaking. "Gale—"

"We're going to need some rags," he tells her. Gale lowers himself to the floor closer to the pot and gestures toward the bathroom. "And the kit Prim gave us after the wedding. It's under the sink."

Despite desperately needing answers Madge does as she's told, rushing into the bathroom and retrieving everything Gale's asked for. Red, all she sees is red. When she returns to him in the kitchen he's wincing, pulling his bloodied shirt from his body with much effort. Madge makes some sort of noise in the back of her throat, something like a wounded animal, and sinks to the floor next to him.

"Here," she whispers, "let me help." Gale squeezes his eyes shut as she gently removes the rest of his torn shirt. Claws, that's what made these. "Gale," she breathes, "please tell me what happened." So much blood. "_Please_."

"Wild dog," he forces out. "Caught me by surprise." Madge forces the gory images from her mind and nods ever so slightly. "Happened around two this afternoon. Couldn't come home like this, not in the middle of the day. Tried…" Gale trails off as his body shudders. "Tried washing some off in the stream," he finally continues. "Just kept getting w-worse." His eyes drop down to the kit by Madge's side. "I need you to sew me up."

"I'm not a seamstress," she answers quickly.

"I need you to sew me up," Gale repeats roughly. "I'm losing too much blood, Madge." He holds up his hands and shows her how much they're shaking. "I can't do it. You need to." Madge bites down on her bottom lip. There has to be other options. There _has_ to be. "Madge," he croaks.

The blonde sucks in a deep breath and dives for the medical kit. She's a Hawthorne now, and Hawthorne's are the strongest people she knows. She has to be strong for him.

As she strings up a needle and thread Gale dips one of the rags she brought out into the pot. Madge watches as his entire being trembles as he presses the warm cloth against his skin, trying to wipe away the blood that's stained his skin. Right when she's done with the needle she leans forward, taking the rag out of his hand.

Gale drops his forehead down to her shoulder as she methodically wipes the sticky red mess from his chest. "It'll be okay," Madge insists quietly. Gale lets out a muffled cry when she adds a bit of pressure and guilt instantly suffocates her. "I've got to do this," she whispers. "I'm sorry." He doesn't object and he tries his damn hardest not to cry out again, but when he does Madge has to swallow back tears. "I'm sorry," she says again.

Once most of the blood is gone from his wounds Madge reaches for the needle. Knowing if she announces what she's about to do she'll throw up from nerves, she begins to patch him up without any warning. Gale grunts as the needle plunges into his skin, gripping Madge closer. She works as quickly as she can, focusing on the task in front of her. One mark down, two to go.

In, out, Madge sews in time with her breathing. Gale makes no noise other than his rough breathing in her ear. He holds fast to her body in hopes to weigh himself down and to stop from shaking. Almost done, almost…

"Okay," Madge exhales. "I'm finished." Gale jerks his head backwards to look at her handiwork and smiles weakly. Even now Madge can see how crooked they are, but at least it's stitched together. "What now?"

"God, I love you," he rasps. Madge smiles faintly as he shakes his head. "You've got to wrap it up now. Really tight." Madge wastes no time returning to the small kit Prim made and pulling out the roll of gauze. Eyeing it once Gale says, "That should be enough."

She starts immediately, wrapping the wooly white tape around the entirety of his body. Around his arm and across his chest as tightly as she can. It takes Gale a bit of effort to lift his arm, but Madge is able to work around it. By the time she's done wrapping him up Gale's eyes are drooping.

"Let's get to bed now," Madge pleads. They haven't eaten dinner, Madge wonders if Gale's eaten at all today, but she needs him to lie down immediately. "Come on."

"Might bleed out," Gale murmurs. "I'll sleep on the couch."

Before Madge can even protest he forces himself to his feet and marches into their tiny living room, lowering himself onto their uncomfortable cushions and letting his feet drop to the ground. He's much too tall to be sleeping on the couch. Madge follows him quickly but glances over her shoulder once, staring at the mess that they've made in the kitchen. The second Gale falls asleep she's going to clean it up, they can't have it looking like the bloodbath occurred in their kitchen.

* * *

Madge lowers herself to the ground next to the couch and reaches up, grabbing Gale's hand in hers.

"Thank you," Gale whispers. His entire body is sore, he knows he won't be able to stay awake much longer. Madge doesn't answer him, instead she kisses the outside of his hand quickly.

Gale shifts into his side so he can get a better view of his wife. Her hands are coated in a thin layer of his blood, stained pink from all the work she's done. Her eyes are hollow and unseeing, tracing the gauze that she wrapped around Gale probably praying that it works. Her eyebrows are knitted and she has a little u between, the sheer proof of how worried she really is.

"We'll get you to Prim first thing in the morning," Madge finally says. Her eyes meet his, a dark terrified blue. "Okay?"

"Sure, Madge," he nods. Dammit, he's so _stupid_. That dog came out of nowhere, jumped him from behind. He can still see the first spurt of blood that shot out from him, still feel the heat from the damn thing breathing down his neck. "I'm sorry," he tells her. If he had been paying more attention none of this would've happened. If he had stayed in bed with Madge this morning then he'd be perfectly okay.

"Don't be sorry for this," she answers him.

Gale squeezes his eyes shut and pulls her hand closer to him. "I'm sorry for more than this." Madge lets out a shaking breath and closes her eyes as well. "What you said when I came in… about me not trying."

"I was angry that you were so late," Madge tells him quickly. "That's it, Gale."

"No, you were _right_." Both of them open their eyes and find each other's gaze once again. "You do so much."

"Gale—"

"I'm going to try harder," he promises quietly. He's going to be the husband he always thought he would be, he's going to be the man that she needs him to be. He'll be around more and he'll help out more and he'll stand by her no matter what. "Okay?"

"Me too," she nods. Her eyes are glossed over with tears. "You have so much going on with work and hunting." Madge lifts her gaze above him and blinks back her tears. "I shouldn't expect so much from you, I—"

"We're both at fault here," he cuts her off gently. Madge swallows back a cry and nods again. "Can we leave it at that?" Still she nods, her head tipping up and down slowly. He pulls her hand up to his mouth and kisses it like she did with his. "I love you," he whispers. "You're so strong, Madge."

* * *

He falls asleep before she can say it back, but the words _I love you too_ linger on the tip of Madge's tongue the entire night. She wipes her tears with her free hand and sits by Gale's side for a very long time. She watches the steady rise and fall of his chest as though it's the most precious thing in the entire world, because maybe it is. She's _terrified_ that if she looks away that he'll stop breathing. God only knows how much blood he's lost, or if the handiwork she did along his chest is enough to last him through the night.

Only when Gale starts to snore does Madge let go of his hand, and she does so with a smile.

She makes her way back to the kitchen and cleans up the blood as best she can. His torn bloodied shirt will be burned in the morning, but for now it rests by the fireplace. She spends a very long time at the sink listening to the groaning of the pipes as she washes the red from her hands. Madge is tired.

Only when the mess is gone does Madge decide it's okay to sleep. She passes out on the floor next to the couch.

In the morning Madge wakes to the sound of Gale in their bedroom. She's somehow on the couch, meaning that Gale must've moved her when she woke up, and he's much too far away. Though still physically exhausted she forces herself from the uncomfortable cushions that she's on and starts for their room.

"Gale?" she calls. His motion freezes immediately. She pushes open the door and finds him by the dresser, pulling on new clothes. _Work _clothes. "What are you doing?" Madge asks. "You're not going to work today." Gale sighs, but before he can say anything Madge is behind him, pulling him away from the dresser. "We're going straight to Prim."

"I need to work, Madge."

"Not today," she nearly barks. The blonde is entirely outranged that he would even _consider_ going to the mines. She quickly peels her own shirt with the stains from last night off and throws it on the floor, reaching forward and pulling on a new one. Doesn't have time to change her pants, but they still look pretty clean. "Let's go."

"I need to go to—"

"_Prim's_," Madge says again. Gale shifts on his feet a bit and turns slightly, wincing. "And that's why," she says, gesturing to him. "Now let's go."

* * *

After ducking through many alleyways and staying mostly in the shadows, the couple finally reaches Prim and Rory's home. Prim and Rory got married last winter and have been living in the Seam ever since. Their house isn't very far from Gale and Madge's, but because they have to avoid any peacekeepers who would most certainly question why such a 'healthy man' is not heading towards the mines it takes a bit longer to get there.

Madge is the one knocking when they get there. "Prim," Madge calls quietly. "_Rory!_" And Rory is the one to answer. The young miner is donned in his mining gear and has one of his eyebrows lifted. "We need Prim," Madge blurts, shoving past her brother-in-law and dragging Gale with her.

Gale makes a face of apology toward his brother and Rory shrugs in response. "What happened?" the younger brother asks before letting the door click shut. "Everything okay?"

Prim emerges from her bedroom with a look of confusion on her face. "Madge? Gale?"

"Gale was attacked yesterday," Madge rambles on. She turns to her husband and starts unbuttoning his shirt, allowing the gauze tape to be revealed. Prim's eyes widen as she steps forward. Blood is starting to leak through in some spots, Gale was hoping Madge wouldn't have seen that, and the tape is loose in others. "I did the best I could," she says, zoning out at where the tape isn't enough.

"It's fine," Gale insists.

"It's not fine," Prim scolds him. "Sit." Though Prim may be one of the sweetest girls Gale has ever met, she can get demanding. Not wanting to push her, Gale stumbles over to the couch and takes a seat while removing the rest of his shirt. "Rory," Prim turns to her husband, "stop by your mom's house on the way to work and let her know."

"That's not necessary—" Gale blurts.

"Hush it," Prim mutters. Madge paces over and goes to sit next to Gale but immediately the smaller blonde is shaking her head. "You," she points at Madge, "go to work. If both of you aren't at your jobs it'll look suspicious."

"But—" Madge objects.

"Go," Prim repeats sternly.

Madge sighs but nods her head forward. She leans down and takes Gale's cheeks in her hands before giving him a light kiss. "I love you," she whispers. "I'll be here right after work. Okay?"

"Sure," Gale nods. He stretches his neck to kiss her again. "I love you, too."

Madge smiles faintly before Prim is shooing her out the door, and then she and Rory start back to Gale and Madge's house together. Prim doesn't waste any time to start unwrapping the wound once everyone is gone, and Gale winces due to his delicate skin.

"Jesus, Gale," Prim sighs. "What happened?" As the young healer continues working on the gauze Gale explains the story to her, how he was too distracted to notice the dog that approached him, too stunned to kill it after its first attack. "What distracted you?" Prim wonders aloud, depositing the now bloodied gauze on her living room table.

Tiredly, Gale says, "I don't want to talk about it."

Prim cocks an eyebrow. "Marriage problems? Already?"

"I said I don't want to talk about it." Gale grunts as Prim pokes at the stitches Madge did last night. "What the hell, Primrose?"

"These look pretty good," she tells him. "Sterile needle, I hope?" Gale tips his head forward. It was the one from the pack Prim made, so it had to have been. "You sure?"

"Antibiotics would probably be a good idea," Gale says. Just in case.

Prim goes to the cabinets and starts rifling around, trying to find something that she can use on him without undoing Madge's handiwork. "You know I don't mean to pry," Prim calls over her shoulder. "About you and Madge." Gale grumbles and glances down at his chest, groaning under his breath at the continuous red that is building up. "Rory and I went through some tough times at the start, too."

"Primrose," Gale warns. The girl is six years younger than him, he doesn't need relationship advice from her. "I can sort out my own problems."

"But sometimes it helps to talk about them." Prim lifts her shoulders slightly before turning around. "That's all I'm saying." She makes her way back to Gale with a tube of some green cream and sits on the edge of the coffee table, leaning forward to slather it onto his chest. Gale jumps at the sting and Prim smirks to herself before spreading it out. "I don't want to see you and Madge plummet is all."

"We'll be fine." And honestly, Gale believes that. "It'll just take some time."

"Yeah, well Rory and I are always here if you need us." Gale tips his head forward and makes a mental note to pass this information onto Madge. They don't need a marriage counselor or anything, but it might be nice to sit down and talk about things. Prim pulls her hand up, tracing the stitches that Madge made. "This'll scar, you know," she says.

Something deflates within Gale. "I know," he nods. He had hoped it wouldn't, but deep inside he was sure. Scars on the back, scars on the front. A walking disaster. Disgusting.

Prim rests her hand on his shoulder. "Hey, don't worry about it." Gale shrugs drearily. Just another thing he'll have to work on. "Everything'll heal up nicely." Gale's sure, by the sound of her voice, that she's not just talking about his wounds.

* * *

_A/N: Yikes. Thanks to all of you who reviewed the first chapter or subscribed or favorited or any of that! It means a lot that there are already so many of you. Poor Gale. I hope to expand on the whole situation in the future. I hope you're enjoying it! _


	3. Dirty Dishes

He goes back to work on Wednesday.

He's sore at the end of the day, but was able to get through easily enough.

His chest has stopped bleeding for good, Prim having stitched it up a bit more and applied some sort of cream to keep it from acting up again, and the claw marks on his chest are more evidently scarring now.

Gale lumbers through the District dragging his feet behind him. He passes a few coworkers who worked the same shift as him today at the mines and tips his head at them, and they tip back. No questions at his recent absences, just a nod that causes their helmets to rock.

He's only a few blocks away from his home when he feels the air shift. Gale's heart drops into his stomach, his hands begin to sweat. Despite Prim's advice to keep it easy for the rest of the week he starts to jog.

"I told you that there's nothing in here!" Madge's voice is loud throughout the streets. Gale picks up his pace as their shack comes into view. Peacekeepers. Peacekeepers are standing at the door. "For the love of—"

Gale cuts her off with a shout, "Madge!" Even the men in uniform turn at his call. If Gale knows anything about peacekeepers in the Seam it's to not get on their bad side. He races to the door, edging through everyone who stands outside. Gets some black on their _pretty_ white uniforms. There're four of them. "The hell's going on?"

"Mr. Hawthorne," one of them addresses him pointedly. Gale makes his way up the steps and pulls Madge toward him, his hand sliding around her hip and holding her close despite the fact that he's still covered in coal from work today. "There was an anonymous tip that you've been illegally hunting." Gale tenses as Madge inches closer.

"You here to arrest me under a false charge?" he growls. "Get on with it then."

"Not exactly," the man jerks his head sideways. "To search for illegal weapons. Only if anything is discovered will you be apprehended." The silence in the air is thick. Madge grips the fabric of his shirt. "Either you let us search your house or we'll take both of you to the Justice Hall for insubordination." The peacekeeper grins and readjusts his stance. "Your choice."

And with that Gale sidesteps, pulling Madge with him. Before she can protest, which she so clearly wants to do, Gale makes a discreet head signal as to be quiet. "We'll wait out here," he tells them.

That's that. He's given them permission to enter his home, and so they do. Gale pulls Madge down their rotting wooden steps and off to the side. She turns to him immediately, her blue eyes wide and filled with terror. "You let them into our house," she blurts. Gale tugs her away from the door as the sound of cabinets slamming echoes from inside. "Gale, they—"

"There's nothing for them to find," he tells her quietly. Gale's smarter than that. He has a game bag, sure, but there's currently nothing in it except a pair of gloves and some rope. He can't get charged on that. "Let them search. They'll leave us alone after." Madge nods, but only slightly. She nestles herself against his chest and he holds her close. Gale wonders if she can feel the gauze through his shirt. "No one asked any questions today," he whispers.

"Good," she says back. He lowers his chin to her shoulder. "Still hurt?"

"Not as much." Gale turns his head and kisses below her earlobe. Madge lifts her hand and curls it through his messy raven hair. "I'll pull through."

"Well thank the stars," Madge murmurs.

* * *

The peacekeepers leave the house a mess. Madge insists that they look for hidden bugs, and only after a thorough investigation does she deem it safe. Gale starts dinner as she checks the last room, and when she emerges from it Gale smiles slightly.

"Anything?"

"No," she shakes her head. Madge sighs and slumps down at the table, dropping her head into her hands. "They tracked in so much coal." Gale chuckles slightly and strolls over to her, reaching down and resting his hands on her shoulders. He methodically rubs the knots from her shoulders and smiles as she sighs. "Dinner almost ready?" she asks.

"Almost," Gale nods. He continues his work on her back. "Breathe, Madge."

"It's been a long week," she forces out. He agrees wholeheartedly, and it's only Wednesday.

They eat in mostly silence. Gale tries to catch her gaze every once in a while but she's always looking elsewhere, entirely too distracted by whatever is going on in her head. When they're finished Madge takes their bowls and goes to start the dishes, but Gale is too quick. While she starts the water he wraps his arms around her waist and tugs her backwards.

"Talk to me," he pleads. Madge tries to pry herself from his grip but he only tightens it. "The dishes can wait, babe." He spins her in his arms so she's facing him and finds her tearing up, glancing toward the ceiling to stop from crying. "Madge," Gale lifts one of his hands to her chin and brushes her cheek with his thumb. "What's wrong? Come on, talk to me."

"I-I don't—"

"Madge," he whispers. All he wants is to know what's going on inside her head. That's it. Gale's trying so hard to be patient. He searches her eyes for an answer that she won't give. "I'm your husband."

"I know," she croaks. "And I could've lost you!"

That wasn't what he was expecting to hear. "What?"

"On Sunday," Madge whimpers. She snatches her chin from his hold and rests her forehead against his chest. "What if you lost too much blood? What if you never came home?" Immediately Gale tugs her closer as she sucks in a sharp breath. "Or t-today when they peacekeepers came," she continues weakly. "What if they found something and took you from me?" She shakes her head back and forth against him. "And we… we've been fighting and I-I don't—"

"Don't start that," Gale cuts her off. Hesitantly she pulls herself away from his shirt and glances up at him. "I'm fine, Madge. I'm right here." He ducks down, sliding his hands to her cheeks so he can kiss her. "Right here," he repeats when they part. A tear has fallen and is streaming down her face, so Gale wipes it gently.

"And the Victory Tour is next month," Madge blurts. Her body shakes in a sob that she swallows back. "And peacekeepers are everywhere. And someone reported you for h-hunting." Gale kisses her again, his lips covering hers lightly. They share each other's breath for a moment, he makes sure this kiss is longer. He wants her mind to stop running through everything that's been going wrong. He wants her to just _be_. When they part her eyes remain closed as though she's thinking. "There's so much in my head," she tells him. "I'm just scared."

"Don't be," he returns. "They're not going to take me away from you. I won't let them. Okay?"

"Okay," she nods.

When they kiss this time it's different than before, filled with the passion they both truly feel for one another. Their days are rough and their weeks are long, but through it all they've got each other and that's what matters. Gale drops his hands down around her rear and hoists her up onto the counter by the sink. Madge squeaks as she's lifted and clings tightly to the man in front of her.

At this height Gale can more easily reach her neck. He breaks from her mouth and peppers kisses down the chain of her necklace to her throat, light and breathless. Madge exhales and clutches onto his shirt tightly.

"I need to do the dishes," she breathes.

"They can wait," Gale murmurs. Madge throws her head backwards so her collarbone is exposed, and Gale happily takes the opportunity to suckle across her skin. "God damn you're beautiful," he whispers. Her legs tighten around his hips and Gale grunts, lightly scraping his teeth over her throat. "I love you."

Madge giggles when he scoops her into his arms. "I thought you weren't allowed to do any heavy lifting," she teases. The look in her eyes is pure awe. Her worries are gone. She's all his, no distractions will take her now.

"You're not heavy," he retorts. Her hands slide around his neck and slide through his messy hair. His lips find hers as they stumble through their home. "And I work in the mines, Madge, what do you think I've been doing all day?" She giggles again, pressing a hot kiss to Gale's throat.

When they reach their room Gale eases her onto the bed, but her grip is so strong he follows too. Her fingers pry at his shirt, quickly tugging it up and over his head. He took the gauze off of his wounds earlier so she's faced with nothing but his bare skin. Madge kisses up his chest, careful to avoid the scars that are still healing, before resting on her knees.

"I love you, too," Madge breathes. This is what they've been missing, the spontaneity. They don't take the time to love each other anymore, and that's what they _need_. Gale grins, dropping his mouth against hers and sucking on her bottom lip. Madge groans impatiently as he slides his hands up her shirt without removing it, his fingers dancing over her breasts. "Gale," she moans.

In seconds the fabric is gone from her skin. Gale dips down over her and she melts with his touch. When they're together, there's no such thing as fear.

* * *

His fingers curl through her hair, methodically wrapping around the golden strands of sunshine. Madge smiles lazily, running her finger up his chest. "I missed you," she whispers.

"I've been here the whole time," he says back. And he has, really, just not like this. She stretches forward and presses a kiss to one of the wounds that's healing up. "They'll scar," Gale tells her quietly. Madge glances up through her messy bangs and finds his gaze. Unsure and nervous. "Prim said so."

"Doesn't matter," Madge answers him. Gale's beautiful, scars and all. She wishes that he knew that. "Your body isn't why I love you."

Gale smirks, "Certainly helps though, doesn't it?" Madge hates it when he does that, covers up his insecurities with humor. She rolls her eyes and stretches her hand up, brushing her fingers over the stubble on his chin. His smile fades before he turns to kiss her hand. "How'd we get like this?" he asks.

Madge lifts an eyebrow. "Well, I was _going_ to do the dishes when you—"

"Madge," he sighs.

That wasn't what he meant, she knows that. "I guess we didn't realize all the stress that comes with marriage," she shrugs. "That doesn't mean I regret anything, because I don't."

Gale kisses her hand again before lifting his own to cover it. "You're happy, then?"

Madge's eyebrows furrow at his question. "Of course I'm happy," she answers. "Gale, I _love_ you." His smile grows just a bit. "Sure, there are times I want to strangle you," she pauses as he laughs, "but that… you're _everything_ to me." Not only would she have nowhere to go if she and Gale gave called it quits, but she wouldn't _want_ to go anywhere. She wants to be with him, and only him. "Are you? Happy?"

"I'm married to the girl of my dreams," Gale murmurs sleepily. "Course I'm happy."

* * *

When Saturday comes both Gale and Madge are more than ready to leave their home and go over to Bristel and Thom's. Thom, being Gale's best friend, originally objected to his relationship with Madge before growing to love the blonde like a sister of sorts. Bristel married Thom despite his town/Seam prejudices, and loved Madge from the beginning.

Thom's the one to open the door when the couple knocks and he welcomes them inside happily. "It's about damn time you two stopped by!" he cheers. He ushers his friends inside and lets the door swing shut behind them. "Where've you been?"

"Six streets down the road and a little to the left," Madge scolds him, stepping forward to give a quick hug. Thom chuckles as he holds her, and then she moves forward to Bristel who's waiting a few steps back. "You know perfectly well where our house is and can come over any time."

"We've been letting you get settled," Bristel responds, quickly embracing Madge. "Glad you decided to come."

Thom and Gale go straight to the kitchen table where a bottle of whiskey and a deck of cards wait, but Madge and Bristel take to the living room. As the boys disappear into the kitchen the girls settle on the couch. From here Madge can still see Gale, but she can't hear what he's saying. He glances at her and smiles, and then she does too.

Bristel drags her fingers through her long dark hair, lifting her eyebrows at her friend. "How are you two?" Bristel asks. "I know last time we spoke you said things were… off."

"We're okay," Madge nods. She fiddles with the locket around her neck, the silver necklace she's worn ever since her 18th birthday. "Things are getting better, I think." Bristel raises her eyebrow again and Madge smiles, biting down on her bottom lip. "We've been talking more," she finally continues. "It's less… forced. More like it used to be."

They just needed to find their rhythm. It might've taken awhile but Madge thinks they're back on track now. Hopefully.

"Good," Bristel nods. "That's good." Madge nods too, watching as Gale shuffles the deck of cards while animatedly talking about God knows what with Thom. "Communication is good. What about… how do I word this…?" The woman across from Madge scratches her chin. "Sleeping arrangements?"

Sex. She means sex.

Madge coughs and her cheeks run red hot. "Great," she blurts. "Everything's great." Bristel laughs slightly and Madge glances down at the ground. "Actually," her voice drops, "that's sort of what I wanted to talk to you about."

Bristel's face flashes with confusion. "But you just said—"

"I've been counting days," Madge cuts her off. Instantly her friend is quiet, both of her eyes wide. "And I think…"

* * *

"You two look happy," Thom notes. He pours himself a glass of whiskey and then one for Gale. "Happier than last time, anyway."

"One step at a time," Gale shrugs. He reaches for the drink and takes a hearty sip, wholeheartedly believing that he and Madge are okay again. "Honeymoon phase couldn't last forever." In fact, theirs was roughly three days long. "We're just settling into… reality, I guess." They weren't used to having so much free time together. They're just figuring out how to deal with it.

Thom chuckles and says, "I told you married life was hard." Again Gale shrugs. He glances over his shoulder at Madge and Bristel and find them in a strong embrace. Before Gale can mention it Thom sets his glass on the table and says, "You gonna deal or what?"

Gale snaps back to the table and rolls his eyes, shuffling the cards and dealing them like his friend wanted. Only a few minutes pass before the women join them at the table, Madge taking the seat next to Gale and scooting it closer than before. He smiles, sliding his hand down and around her waist.

"Want something to drink?" he asks her. Gale gestures toward the bottle of whiskey on the table and the glass that's meant for her.

Madge tips her head to the side. "Not tonight," she answers. He lifts an eyebrow at her but she doesn't seem to notice, turning back to the table in front of her. "I think you're losing," Madge says, pointing to the cards. Thom chuckles from across them and Gale rolls his eyes again. It'll be a long night.

* * *

Madge's hand is laced tightly with his as they make their way back home. It's clear Gale's drunk by the way his body sways, but Madge continues to hold him up anyway. He does a pretty good job walking, they just wouldn't want to run into any trouble like this.

"You feelin' okay?" Gale asks. Madge is startled by his question, considering they haven't spoken the entire walk home. "You're quiet," he notes, and then laughs a bit. "And you didn't drink. You always drink when you get the chance."

That much is true. Madge's been trying to cut back on alcohol for a while now and believes that she's doing a pretty good job. Ever since her mother died last year she would turn to drinking whenever anything got a little messy, but she always knew that wasn't the answer. Now she tries to limit herself to just a few drinks.

Then again, this reasoning has nothing to do with why she didn't drink tonight.

"Just wasn't feeling it," she tells him. Gale nods, seemingly accepting this answer, and makes his way up their crooked porch stairs. Once inside Gale nearly collapses on the couch and Madge rushes over to the sink, getting him a glass of water. She paces back and thrusts the glass into his hand, and he smiles warmly at her. "Drink it," she tells him. "It'll help with the hangover."

Instantly the liquid is gone, and then he sets the cup down on their coffee table. Gale stretches and his back pops slightly, and then he settles onto the couch again.

"No use in lighting candles," he murmurs. "I'll be asleep in the next five minutes." Madge laughs and takes the seat next to him. She nestles up to his side and he drops his arm over her shoulder, cradling her body close to his. Drunk or not, Gale's always got that sweet side to him. "I love you," he hums. Gale bends over and presses his lips to her temple. "Things are gettin' better, right?"

And it's not that things were ever _bad_. It's not as though they were fighting or yelling at each other or slamming doors and crying in the bathroom, it's just that they weren't _happy_.

"Yes," Madge breathes.

"Good, because I'll do _anything_ you want, Madge. I'll make everything better and good I _promise_."

Madge laughs slightly and shakes her head. "I love you," she tells him. Gale must like this answer because he smiles dumbly and squeezes her against him again. "Hey, Gale?" He opens one of his eyes and glances in her direction. She has to ask now or she'll never get the courage. "How do you feel about kids?"

"Kids?" he repeats. The sleep is evident in his voice but he sits up ever so slightly anyway. With the hand that isn't around Madge, Gale drags his fingers through his hair and opens both of his eyes. "What about em?"

The blonde shrugs her shoulders slightly. "Like… having them. Having kids."

"Now?" asks Gale, and Madge nods. He cocks an eyebrow and leans over her. "I mean if you _insist_…" he trails off as Madge rests her hand on his chest, and then he laughs at his own joke.

"I'm serious," Madge murmurs.

Gale lets out a deep breath and sinks back onto the couch. This clearly wasn't the conversation he was planning on having tonight, and it doesn't help that he's falling asleep and still tipsy. "I don't really want kids," Gale finally says. "Not now, anyway. We're hardly ninety percent in our relationship, Madge, how are we expected to take care of a baby?"

Madge deflates slightly, pulling her hands into her lap. "I think kids would be nice," she responds. "That's all."

"Sure, kids are great," Gale agrees. He rubs at his eyes and forces himself to stay awake. "And I most definitely plan to have a family with you. Just not now. We should wait until we're sure we want them, that we can handle them." He lifts an eyebrow. "Unless _you're_ sure?" Madge's shoulders lift unenthusiastically. "You're the one that brought it up, babe."

"You're clearly not ready for a kid," Madge responds. "So it doesn't matter."

"Doesn't—" Gale groans, "it does matter! It's not that I don't _want_ kids, Madge, I do. I just don't think you and I are in the right state to be having them." He tries to pull her closer but she shrinks away. "Aw, Madge."

"Let's just go to bed," she says. Madge goes to stand but Gale's arm over her shoulders holds her in place. "If you don't want kids then just say it, Gale."

"I don't want kids," he repeats. "Not now. We're not ready. Maybe in a month or two but—" somehow Madge manages to stand anyway, his arm falling down where she had been sitting. Gale groans again, reaching up and rubbing at his eyes. "Madge, will you just hear me out?"

"Let's go to bed," she says again. "I'm tired." And Gale's drunk. She shouldn't have even tried to have this conversation.

Without waiting for Gale to respond she makes her way to their bedroom, tugging on her locket as she goes and willing the tears from her eyes. He doesn't want a baby, _she_ doesn't want a baby. What are they going to _do_?

She's in bed by the time he makes it to their room, and then Gale quickly follows. He wastes no time in pulling her toward him, draping his arm over her waist and snuggling up so his chest is pressed against her back. He kisses the back of her neck once as he falls asleep, but she stays awake much longer than she needs to. She just can't stop _thinking_.

* * *

_A/N: Of course it's not that Gale doesn't want kids, he wants a big family like he had, it's just that he doesn't feel like having a kid at this moment would help them very much. You know? Hope you're liking the story, criticism is always welcome. _


	4. Slamming Doors

**Warning: Could contain triggering content. (topic: abuse) Read at your own risk. **

* * *

He has his arms wrapped around her when she wakes.

Gale is hugging Madge tightly to him, her bare skin pressed to his. He's still asleep, she can tell by the way his breathing is soft and his heartbeat is steady. Madge shifts in her spot and rolls to face him. At the disturbance of his position Gale stirs, opening one of his eyes in attempt to process what's happening.

"Are you hunting today?" Madge whispers.

Gale groans, pulling her closer and burying his face in her neck. "Head hurts," he mutters. Must've had too much to drink last night. "We were reported Wednesday, remember? Don't want to risk it." He presses a kiss to her collarbone. "Go back to sleep."

Madge sighs, reaching up and running her fingers through his hair. It was just last week she was begging him to stay, and now she's the one who's going to go. "I promised your mom I'd be over for breakfast," she says. Gale grunts and presses her closer. "You can come if you'd like, I'm sure she'd love to see you." Again he grunts. Madge laughs a little and leans down, pressing her lips to his forehead. "I'll bring you a glass of water, okay?"

"Mmm."

"Sleep it off," she tells him. "I'll be back for lunch."

Begrudgingly he releases his hold on her, but only before snatching a kiss. Madge changes quickly and smiles to herself at the sight of Gale burying himself under the pillows. He always gets a hangover, she doesn't understand why he continues to drink so much. Nevertheless she gets him a glass of water and leaves it by the bed, bidding him farewell again before actually leaving.

* * *

Madge steadily sips on a glass of tea as Posy yammers away about how her week has been. She just saw the little girl Thursday for game night but it seems as though an infinite amount of things have happened since that point. Most importantly, the boy Jakob who lives down the street who Posy _hated_ on Thursday has been asking her to hang out. Oh, boy.

"Posy," Hazelle warns. "You're 13 years old. You don't need a boyfriend."

Madge chuckles as the little brunette sighs. "It was different when I was 12," Posy mutters. Her birthday was just last week. "Now I'm 13 and I'm not allowed to hang out with a single boy, like being a teenager has changed some universal rule or something!" She shakes her head and Madge smiles to herself before finishing off her cup. "I don't understand parents."

Hazelle takes the glass from Madge and turns to her daughter, saying, "And you never will until you become one. Isn't that right, Madge?" The blonde feels her cheeks run pale, but Hazelle quickly corrects herself. "Never mind, you aren't a parent either."

"Teacher," Madge reminds her with a shaking voice. "Must be the whole maternal thing."

"Ah, right," Hazelle nods.

Posy shoves another piece of cinnamon bread into her mouth. "Are you gonna be a parent, Madge?" she asks. Still, Madge is pale. "I've got a bet with Ma that you and Gale will have kids before Prim and Rory."

"Posy," her mother warns.

"What! I'm just being honest!" Posy licks her lips to get some cinnamon and turns back to Madge. "So? Am I going to win or what?"

"I—" Madge sighs and drops her gaze. "That's complicated, Posy."

The silence in the air after the blonde speaks is heavy. She tried saying it as though it wasn't a big deal but there was that slight quiver in her voice that made it known. Posy shrinks back into her seat and looks toward her mother, than back at her sister-in-law.

"This is an adult conversation, isn't it?" Posy asks. Without even waiting for an answer she slides off of her wooden chair and makes a pity face at Madge. Then she quickly disappears into her room, a room that was once Gale's but now belongs to her.

Hazelle places Madge's cup in the sink with a very heavy _clank_ before easing herself into the seat in front of Madge. "What's wrong?" Hazelle asks gently. "Things seemed a little off on Thursday. Is everything okay with his chest? Is it not healing properly?"

"No, no, it's fine," Madge answers immediately. Hazelle lets out a sigh of relief. She nearly had a heart attack when she found out what had happened to Gale with the wild dog. Madge also doesn't think that a few bumps and bruises would stop Gale from taking Madge to bed. That bastard is just too good at sweet talking. "It's just that a lot has happened since then."

"It's only been a week," Hazelle murmurs. "What is it?"

Quickly Madge tells her mother-in-law everything. She speaks rapidly about the threat from the peacekeepers and how she hasn't the slightest idea who could've, let alone _would've_, called something like that in. The fear that Madge has is real, and as she talks she can hear her voice shaking even more than before. The older woman listens without even the slightest reaction; her gray gaze is stony as Madge rambles on and on.

When Madge is done, Hazelle lets out a deep breath. "You're right," the woman nods, "that is a lot. And it's scary and should be addressed, just not right now." Madge's dark blonde eyebrows furrow in confusion. "I don't see how that would stop you and Gale from having a child, dear."

Madge gives in. Her eyes fill with tears and she drops her gaze. She whispers, "I think I'm pregnant."

Hazelle shifts forward, her eyes widening. "Oh, Madge!"

"Gale doesn't want children," she continues quickly, her voice on the fringe of panic. "And neither do I. Not yet, we're not ready! And there's probably one inside me right now and I can't _stand_ myself! I can't even, I don't _want_ it!" Hazelle reaches across the table and grabs Madge's hand, effectively cutting off her ramblings. "I don't know what to do," she whimpers. Madge starts to cry. Tears fall from her eyes and she doesn't try to stop them. "I don't know what to _do_."

* * *

He takes a walk to Vick's grave.

Gale tries to get out there as often as he can and physical activity helps Gale with his headaches more than not. He leaves a flower that he picked along the way and starts back home, knowing Madge said that she'd be home for lunch and wanting to get it started before she gets there. He didn't leave a note either and he doesn't want her to worry.

He takes a different route back. He needs to see something new, needs to work out in his mind the details of the conversation he had with his wife last night. Madge was pressing him about children, he knows that much. The need to have them.

And dammit, of course he wants kids. He's wanted a big family ever since he was in one himself, there's just too much to get used to right now. He doesn't need to be worrying about a pregnant Madge, not when he can't even hop the fence to feed them. An extra mouth at this point is not something he can handle.

"Good for nothing _scum_!"

Gale leaps at the sound of something shattering, forced back into the reality that is the Seam. He slows his walk a bit and listens to the slamming of a door, and watches a kid about 15 years old rushing from a house.

"Yeah, and stay out!" the same voice shouts. Gale watches the kid glance over his shoulder before easing onto the porch, dropping his head into his hands. "Freeloading bastard!"

Gale waits until the quiet resumes, and then he carefully makes his way over to the boy on the steps. The kid has dark black hair and is scrawny, a lot scrawnier than Gale was at this age. He looks underfed. Tired.

"Hey," Gale murmurs. The house inside is silent and Gale doesn't want whoever is in there to hear him and get even angrier. "You okay?"

"Fine," the kid snaps. He doesn't bother looking up. "My drunken bitch of a mother can't stand the sight of me. All in a day's work." The kid looks up and Gale suddenly feels like he's been punched in the heart. There's a purple bruise circling the kid's right eye and a patch on his forehead is bleeding. "The hell do you want? Leave me alone, man."

Gale decides to take a risk. He lowers himself down onto the step next to the kid and watches him recoil.

"What's your name?" Gale asks. The kid stares at him, bright green eyes focus on him sharply. "I asked you a question."

"Wesley," he answers. "Just Wesley."

Gale glances over his shoulder at the house behind him. "Just you and your mom?" he asks. Wesley fidgets before jerking his head forward. "She hit you?" Wesley flinches slightly but doesn't answer Gale's question. The older man has never understood what would compel a parent to be so cruel and hateful to their child. It doesn't make any sense. "You report it?"

"I'm not an idiot," the kid snaps again. Gale cocks an eyebrow and Wesley eases. Gale's not about to take the attitude. "They'd take me away if I said anything," Wesley murmurs. He's not as sharp. "She's awful but it's better than being in the damn Community Center." Gale hates when children use foul language, but he's not going to correct him. "You ever seen those kids? They're depressing."

Gale lets out a deep breath and jerks his head forward. "Alright. I get it." He understands why he won't report the abuse. And he understands why this kid is so sharp. Children need love to smooth down the rough edges of their lives. "I won't tell either."

Wesley doesn't smile, he just drops his gaze from Gale. "Thanks."

It's quiet between the two of them as Gale moves to stand. "Listen," Gale says. "I live down the street. It's a little old shack you couldn't miss it. Number 642 on West Oak. My name's Gale." Wesley watches him with uneasy eyes. "You ever need a place to stay or just cool down you go there, okay?"

The boy doesn't answer, he just continues to stare. Gale walks away without bothering to wait for a confirmation from the kid. He knows he won't get one anyway.

* * *

Gale's almost done preparing lunch by the time Madge gets home. Her eyes are red and her cheeks are pale.

Immediately he rushes away from the counter where he's preparing their sandwiches and over to her. "What's wrong?" he asks. His hands cup her cheeks, his eyes search hers. "What happened?"

"Nothing," she waves him off. "Nothing, honestly." And to prove it, she smiles. A real true blue Madge smile. She lets out a watery laugh and reaches up to wipe under her eyes. "I promise. Everything's okay."

"Madge," he murmurs.

She smiles again but this time her eyes fill with tears. She blinks a few times and sniffles. "It's a long story, it—" with a look, Gale cuts her off. He pulls his hands from her cheeks and lets her collapse against his chest. "It's okay," she whispers. He tightens his grip around her, holding her closely. "I—I thought that," Madge pauses. "You can't be angry with me."

Gale cocks an eyebrow but soothingly rubs her back. "Course not."

"Up until twenty minutes ago I thought I was pregnant," she whispers. Gale freezes instantly. No wonder she's been talking about kids all of a sudden.

"You thought?"

"I was just late," she says. "Really, concerningly, late." Gale shifts away from her so he can look at her, and finds her with her eyes still watery. "I love kids, Gale, I do. I'm a teacher for crying out loud but I didn't—I didn't think we were ready. I was trying to convince myself that we were, that we could handle it. I was trying to convince _you_—" she cuts herself off and drops her gaze down to the ground. "I should've told you."

"Madge," Gale reaches for her. His hands slide down her sides and rest on her hips. "I'm in love with you. If you were pregnant I would've been ecstatic!" Madge won't hold his gaze so he tugs her closer. "Listen to me," he breathes. Madge tilts her head up and unsteadily meets his stare. "I love you. Do you understand that? Do you know what that entails?" When she doesn't answer he does so for her. "Everything. Whether you're scared or angry or," he pauses to search for the right word "_pregnant_, I love you! I'm _always _on your side. Okay?"

"Okay," she nods.

With a sigh Gale smiles, and then she smiles too. He leans down and intends to quickly press his lips to hers, but as he pulls away she lifts herself to her tiptoes. Madge slides her hand into his thick hair and keeps her mouth with his, causing his smile to widen. Gale pulls away sharply before lurching forward again and again, delivering Madge an abundance of kisses. She laughs as he peppers kisses all over her face and finally the two break apart, both smiling brightly.

* * *

As the two eat the meal Gale's prepared for lunch Madge's foot finds his under the table. He smirks as her sock covered foot slides lovingly up his ankle.

"What'd you today?" she hums.

Gale swallows the bite in his mouth and shrugs. "Took a walk over to see Vick," he says. Madge nods and waits for more. "Took a different way home, though. Left of the old tree." Again she nods, knowing exactly what he's talking about. "There was some kid…" he starts.

"Some kid?" Madge asks.

Gale hesitates, shaking his head. "I don't know." Madge lifts her eyebrow at him. "I don't," he shakes his head again. "Heard his mother yelling at him." She leans forward now, clearly intrigued. "He had a bruise the size of the Capitol around his eye."

"Oh no," Madge gasps. "Do you think she hit him?"

"I know she did," he nods, "he practically admitted it."

Her eyebrows furrow and she fidgets in her seat. "We have to tell someone, Gale!" The panic, the _determination _in her voice is so powerful it stuns him backwards in his spot. "We can't let that poor kid—"

"Be taken to the Community Center," Gale interrupts. Madge flinches at his words but holds his sharp gaze anyway. "It's just as bad, maybe even worse."

"There's nothing worse than abuse like that," she snaps angrily.

"Peeta was hit by his mother his entire life and you never said a damn thing!" Gale barks back. Her face flashes with the utmost guilt and Gale immediately knows he's crossed a line. "Madge—"

"I wanted to say something," she croaks. "And I regret that I never did. It wasn't right. It's never right for a parent to hit their child." Her words hang heavy in the air and Gale is consumed by regret at his choice of words. He doesn't ever even want to imagine his life if his parents had been crueler than they were. Punishment is best inflicted without physical force, he knows that. It's what he was taught, it's how he was raised. "I'll never do that," she says quietly. "To our kids, I'll never—"

"I know," Gale murmurs. "Me neither." Again they're quiet, their conversation having taken a turn for the worst. Dammit, and they were doing so _well_. "I gave him our address," he finally continues. Madge won't look at him now; she's studying a scratch in the wood of the table very intensely. "In case he ever needs a place to come. His name's Wesley."

She looks up at him. "Wesley Beau?" Gale's shoulders lift, he never got a full name. "Oh God," she sighs, dropping her elbow on the table and lowering her head into her hand. "He's one of the trouble kids at school," Madge tells him. "Not in my class, he's too old. I've heard about him though. Insubordinate. Angry. Practically failing out of his grade." She rakes a hand through her hair and sits back up. "I had no idea."

Gale stretches his hand across the table and grips hers, squeezing her fingers reassuringly. Or at least, the best that he can.

"I know it's not fair," he whispers. "I want to help him just as much as you do."

He knows exactly what she's thinking, he knows what's racing through her mind. That the Seam, that _District 12_ is brutal and awful and cruel. Madge is dreaming of a better place, a better time. A place where parents don't hit their kids, or if they do they're properly punished and the child is put into better care.

A life like that just doesn't seem to be in their future. They can only hope to love their own children as they need to be.

* * *

_A/N: Shorter chapter, sorry! I've been transitioning into college and haven't had much time to write. What the heck I'm in college. What. Anyway, Madge wasn't pregnant, she just thought she might be. I missed Posy a lot, hope you did too. She's getting older every day! And meet Wesley, one of my new favorite characters. Predictions for other chapters? Your support makes my day. _


	5. Purple Blisters

He comes home with blisters on his hands.

Madge spots them immediately despite his attempts to hide them. Deep purple welts that cover his palms. "What's that?" she asks. He pretends he doesn't hear her. "On your palm?"

"It's nothing, Madge. Don't worry about it." She grabs his hand and studies the markings. "Madge," he warns.

"It looks awful," she tells him. Gale tries to pull his hand away and sighs when she pulls him closer. "Let me treat it, at least." Before he can protest she's pulling him to the sink and blasting the water, allowing the cool stream to pelt at the blisters. He grimaces but doesn't object, clenching his teeth and letting the water run over his skin. "How'd you get these?" she asks.

"My gloves," he says. "My mining gloves, they're pretty worn." Madge pulls him to the bathroom and reaches under the sink to grab the kit Prim made them. She restocked it after Gale's incident with the scratches on his chest so it has everything Madge needs to treat him. "It happens every year." He winces as she dabs a greenish cream on the wound and grunts under his breath. "A little warning next time, yeah?"

"Why don't you get some new ones at the Hob?" Madge asks. Her stomach twists at the sight of his hands. They're already cracked because it's so damn cold all of a sudden. It's like winter came overnight. "If you need them you should get them."

"We can't afford it," he murmurs.

Gale won't look at her as she wraps his palm in some gauze. She knows what he's thinking and the feeling is sharp in her gut. Ever since they were reported for hunting Gale's been skeptic to go back in the woods. Whenever he does it's only for a short amount of time, and he's always so tense when he gets back. Not only is he terrified to be in his safe haven but he also hasn't been bringing as much back. They keep most of what he gets, giving some to his mom and Posy, and hardly have anything to trade in the Hob. This means less money, and less necessities.

"We can cut back a little then," Madge says. With his hands like this she doesn't want to imagine the pain that he suffers. He's using his hands _all day_. They're only going to get worse. "You need new gloves, Gale."

"We need to eat, Madge," he says in the same tone. "Plus we're going to need more money for coal to fuel the fire now that it's cold out. The gloves aren't necessary right now."

"I think that they are," she counters. Madge finishes wrapping his hand and he pulls them away from her. "Your hands will get infected."

"They'll be fine."

Gale move away from her and toward the kitchen, presumably to start dinner. Before he gets too far she reaches out and grabs the hem of his shirt, effectively pulling him to a stop. Gale turns around with his eyebrows furrowed.

"What's wrong?" Madge asks. He doesn't respond, just stares at her. His gray eyes are sharp. "I know something's wrong so just tell me," she nearly pleads. Why is he acting like this? "_Gale_!"

"They're coming on Saturday," he answers. At first panic pulses through her, _who's coming?_, but then she's filled with dread. "The Victory Tour starts Saturday. I'll have to sit there and listen to that _girl_ talk about Vick." Madge feels sick. "I'll have to sit on a stage and listen to the girl that killed Vick talk about him like he's some sort of sacrifice." Madge's other hand reaches up and holds the hem of his shirt as well. "I just keep running it through my head, all the things she could say. She _killed him_, Madge. And no matter what he's still going to be—" he cuts himself off as his resolve crumbles. Gale steps away blinking back tears and her hands fall from his shirt. "I can't do it."

"Gale," she murmurs. He stalks away from her into the kitchen, shaking his head as he goes. "Gale," Madge tries again. He moves a pot to the sink and twists the handle on the sink so water fills it up. Before she can wrap her arms around him he's moving again, digging through cabinets for vegetables and other things to place inside. "Gale, would you—" she sighs, falling back and running a hand through her hair.

He works quickly and quietly not once looking over at her. His chopping on the cutting board is loud and his motions are stiff. Madge lowers herself to sit by the kitchen table and watches him cook, not saying a thing. Sometimes people just need the quiet.

* * *

At night he pulls her close. Madge curls into his form and his arms wrap tightly around her waist. How can he tell her that he's sorry? He just gets like this sometimes, he doesn't know how to stop it. He shouldn't have been so short with her.

Everything is just falling _apart_ and Gale doesn't know what to do. He promised Madge that he could take care of her and that doesn't seem to be the case at the moment. They're low on food, low on money. Even with their duel income it isn't enough to thrive in the Seam.

And dammit, winter is here all of a sudden. Gale hasn't even had the time to prepare for it. They should've stocked up on firewood and meat or _something_. Madge's body goes slack and he knows that she's fallen asleep. He presses a kiss to her shoulder blade and hugs her closer.

Then there's the whole situation with the Victory Tour. It's another thing that he's not prepared for. It was only a few months ago that his brother Vick was forced into the Hunger Games. He died at the hand of a girl named Dorthea from District 4. She killed his allies, too. Both of them. And now she gets to stand on a stage and have people clap for her and she'll smile and Gale will feel sick for the rest of his life. He doesn't want to see her or hear her voice or even _think_ about her.

His thoughts are so frazzled he can't focus on anything. Gale is perpetually angry and now he's failing his wife.

"I'm supposed to take care of you," he whispers. She's still sleeping, though. "I can't even take care of myself."

* * *

Madge straightens his shirt and thumbs at his chin, wiping off a bit of coal dust. "I wish you could sit with me," he mutters as she does so. Her shoulders lift slightly, she's not allowed to. Blood relatives only. Gale looks down at her outfit and realizes that she doesn't have many _pretty dresses_ to gallivant around in anymore. The one she's in now is a faded red. The only thing that reminds him she was once the mayor's daughter is the silver locket around her neck, and she quickly covers that with a scarf before pulling on a jacket. Gale snaps back into reality. "I don't know if I can do this."

"You can do this," Madge reassures him. "Posy needs you." Gale stiffens but then jerks his head forward. He doesn't _want_ to do this. If it were up to him he would stand in the crowd and just be another citizen. He doesn't want to look at her, and he doesn't want her to look at him. "Gale," Madge whispers. He tilts his head down to look at her. "You can do this."

Finally he nods. He leans down and quickly presses his lips to hers. "You're right," he murmurs. She cups his cheeks and he kisses her again. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she whispers.

As if on cue someone is knocking on their door. Gale kisses Madge one last time before pulling away to answer it. On the other side stands Posy and Hazelle, both of their faces stony and cold. Madge walks toward the door and Gale follows, his heart thrumming in his chest. Silently, all four of them walk to Rory and Prim's house to pick up the last Hawthorne, and together they walk to the square.

* * *

Madge and Prim stand together in the square right where Gale can see them. Katniss and Peeta are on stage with Haymitch and the mayor, all four staring out at the crowd. He sees Mayor Undersee's eyes linger in his daughter's direction but it isn't for very long. Another needle of guilt pricks his side. Madge's father kicked her out when he found out about their engagement and Gale still blames himself for the loss of her family. Madge insists again and again that she chose this life but he won't hear it.

Also in the crowd Gale sees a short redheaded girl named Lily. Lily was Vick's girlfriend when he left for the Games, but obviously they're not still together. Her eyes are filled with unshed tears as she stares at the screen that holds Vick's picture. Gale hasn't looked at the screen yet. It'll hurt too much.

The entire square is filled with people. The attendance, much like that of the Reaping, is mandatory for all those who are able to attend. Many miners are here but it's clear this isn't the most enjoyable way to spend their day off.

Suddenly the door opens and Dorthea walks onto the stage. In most districts there are applause, but District 12 is known for their silence. The only time Gale ever remembers the crowd cheering was when Katniss and Peeta arrived home. Other than that it's always entirely silent. She is not met with a thunderous applause here, but she doesn't seem to mind. She smiles steadily and waves, looking out at both Vick's side of the stage as well as the other tribute's, Jade's side of the stage.

Dorthea the Victor waits as Madge's father moves to the microphone and reads out the same speech he does every year. A speech of honor. Yeah, right. Soon after two girls walk across the stage with bouquets of flowers. She'll receive flowers at every stop she makes on this damn tour of Victory. She's hesitant, but then when she starts to speak her reply for the flowers her voice is sure of herself. Something flickers in her eyes that Gale has seen before, and it's not malicious or evil. It's the look of a wounded doe. Of someone who is scared.

He leans forward and pays closer attention to the girl talking. Her voice is shaking. Stage fright? Probably not. You don't kill so many people and suddenly become terrified to stand on a stage.

Dorthea speaks quickly of Jade for she didn't last very long in the Games, and therefore didn't really get a chance to 'know' her. "A girl of honor and truth. She never once tried to be someone she wasn't." She quickly moves on to Vick. Beside Gale, Posy is tearing up. Rory holds her hand and Gale has his mothers, all under the table at which they sit so no one will see. Not that it matters.

"Vick was a brave tribute," Dorthea starts. Again she's hesitant, her eyes still wary. "He fought for his friends and his family, he tried his hardest to be fair." Dorthea swallows and glances in Gale's direction, but mostly her eyes are on little Posy. "He called me a monster as he was dying," she blurts. There is silence after she speaks. Gale can practically feel Madge's questioning gaze on him. _What is she getting at? _"A murderer," she finally continues. There is nothing but silence, resounding silence. It's heavy in the air. "He said I turned into just what they wanted me to be." Someone on the stage moves, the peacekeepers at the back. Gale tenses and is suddenly reminded of Katniss' Games when she was at District 11. "He was right," Dorthea croaks. "It's a losing game."

Before the peacekeepers reach her she's speaking normally again, as though what she's just said didn't actually come from her mouth. "I'm honored to be the Victor of the 83rd annual Hunger Games, and I'm so thankful for your children. They were brave sacrifices to this world."

She smiles brightly. She waits for a response. And still, there is nothing but silence. Hesitantly, the mayor takes the stage again. He concludes the speech and Dorthea is escorted off.

Everyone is left entirely too confused.

* * *

The day after Dorthea leaves, Madge's brain is still reeling from what the Victor said. Is she suddenly guilty? Does she feel bad for what she's done? If so, why? What's changed? Hearing Vick's name in the killer's mouth made Madge queasy, and after hearing her agree with what he said she wanted to faint. Words like that are _never_ good.

She sits on a bench in town square and watches the people walk by. No one looks in her direction like they used to, and she's thankful. It was annoying always having people stare at her.

"Madge," a voice rings. She tilts her head and finds a man standing in front of her. His smile is wide, his jacket is thick.

"Bernard," she responds happily. She leaps forward and throws her arms around him. Bernard works in the Undersee mansion, is the butler of the house. Does plenty of cooking and cleaning. He was very close with Madge when she lived there. He hugs her tightly before the two of them sit together on the bench. "I've missed you so much! How are you? I feel like I haven't seen you in years! How's everything been?"

"Good, good, same as always. I've missed you too." He takes her hand in his and squeezes gently. "My life never changes. But you, you're married dear! Tell me all about it!"

Bernard was never married himself, so as Madge recounts a few of her stories with Gale she honestly believes his expressions are sincere. He laughs at the right times and makes worried faces when necessary. She explains all about the rough times they've been going through and how it just continues to get harder, but they continue to work through with persistence.

"And now?" he asks. "How are you now?"

"Getting better as always," Madge tells him. "Gale's still a bit closed off after the Victory Tour came through," she says. "It's like he wants to talk about it but doesn't want to at the same time. You know?"

If they were to talk about it Madge knows it wouldn't do anything. What's happened has happened. Vick was reaped. Vick was killed. Dorthea won. Dorthea came to District 12. Dorthea confused Gale. Talking about it isn't going to change anything.

"Yes, I know what you mean. I think the Victor was acting a bit strange herself, if you ask me." Bernard glances over his shoulder before turning back to Madge. "I served at the party like I always do," he says. "Oh, the Capitol folk missed you greatly." Madge rolls her eyes and can't help but smile. They'll never pester her now that she lives in the Seam. "Anyway, every time I saw the girl she was staring down at the ground trying to avoid talking to people. Wouldn't even _speak_ to a man, only the women. They took her away before the night was even over."

Madge furrows her eyebrows. "Are you serious?"

"Afraid so," Bernard nods. "Whatever's going on with that girl it's not something the Capitol wants leaked, sweetie."

* * *

The next day one of the blisters on Gale's hand bursts. He tries his hardest to clean it all up but Madge immediately knows something is wrong and follows him to the bathroom. She catches him in the act of taping up his own hand and forces him to sit on the toilet so she can do it for him.

"It's not a big deal," he grunts. Madge tries her hardest to swallow her tears. "Madge, don't get worked up over it, okay?" She lowers herself to his knee and with his free hand Gale holds her waist. "This happens every year," he murmurs. "Until I get new gloves, I'll be fine."

"What do I have to do to get you those gloves?" she asks. Her voice shakes. Gale rests his forehead against her shoulder.

"I'll do it when we have the money," he tells her. Madge doesn't like this answer. She clamps her mouth shut and goes to work on his hand. "You're getting good at this," Gale whispers. She blinks back tears and continues work on his hand. At her silence Gale lifts his head. "What's wrong?" She doesn't respond. Despite the fact that she's working on his hand he lifts it to her chin, pulling her so she'll look at him. "Madge." Her eyes won't meet his. "C'mon, Madge, talk to me."

"Why're you always getting hurt?" she croaks. Her voice is rough, her chin quivers. "It's not fair."

Gale can't help but smile and tilts his mouth so his lips plant a kiss on her chin. "I'd rather it be me than you."

"I'd rather it be neither of us." She sniffles once and leans more onto him. Gale kisses down her jaw before reaching her collarbone and kissing across the chain of her necklace. "You're always in pain," Madge murmurs. He knows she doesn't mean just physical. "I want to take some of it away from you and you won't let me." No, she definitely doesn't mean just physical.

"My burdens are my burdens," he answers.

"Your burdens are _our_ burdens," she corrects him. "As are mine. That's what marriage is, Gale." He frowns against her, she can feel it by her neck. "I'm sorry about Vick."

"Madge," he warns.

"I'm sorry I couldn't do anything to save him. I'm sorry I couldn't take his place."

"Stop it," he growls. He looks up and pulls her chin back to him again. "Don't you _ever_ be sorry for that." She lets out a deep breath before closing her eyes and resting against him, curling onto his lap. "Dammit, Madge. Don't you be sorry for that." If anything, he should be sorry he hasn't been the husband he's wanted to be.

"I can carry you," Madge whispers. "Let me carry you." She doesn't understand that he wants to be the only one doing the heavy lifting.

* * *

Gale comes home cold. It's cold in the mines and it's cold above ground and his hands still hurt like a bitch. The house is warm and it's not just because there's a fire going. Madge is cooking dinner.

He lifts his eyebrows and marches into the kitchen, finding her at the pot stirring happily and humming. Whatever is in the stew it makes the house smell _delicious_. After shrugging off his jacket and dropping it down to one of the chairs he wraps his arms lovingly around her waist. She leaps a little but smiles when she realizes it's him.

"Hi," she says.

"Hi," he says back. Gale turns his head and his lips graze her ear. "What're you cooking?" Her shoulders lift slightly and Gale grins, kissing her again. "Putting all I've taught you to the test?"

"Maybe," she hums. Gale grins and tightens his waist, swaying with her as she stirs. "I got you something."

He lifts an eyebrow again. "What?"

"I got you something," she says again. She turns to face him and he inches backward, confusion tingling through his veins. At first he thinks he's forgotten an anniversary of sorts but then she tells him, "Just because."

"Just because," he echoes. He doesn't think he's gotten her anything _just because_. He's caught between feeling guilty and desperately wanting to know what it is. "When do I get it?"

"Dinner."

He frowns but it somehow morphs into a smile, and then he nods. It takes him a second or two but he finally accepts this as an answer. She goes back to humming and stirring and he goes back to holding her hips and swaying with her, kissing along her bare neck as she does so.

When they sit Gale mostly assumes that the dinner is what she's gotten him. The first bite of the stew he's instantly surprised. "Holy shit," he mutters.

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

"Madge!" he swallows and laughs and reaches across the table, enveloping her hand with his. "It's delicious!"

She rolls her eyes but the smile on her face is so bright. "Don't act so surprised." She wiggles her fingers and he tightens his hold, smiling with her as well. "I had a pretty good teacher." With his free hand Gale scoops another spoonful into his mouth, sighing at the taste. It's really, really good. Not too salty and the perfect balance of vegetables of all sorts. There's even some rabbit meat in it, Gale didn't even know they had any of that left. "And so for the lessons," Madge starts. She pulls her hand away from his and ducks under the table, rifling through some sort of bag. Gale takes another spoonful while she's gone. Madge pops back up and meets his eye. "I got you these."

Hesitantly she pulls out the gift, setting it down on the table in front of him. The spoon falls from Gale's hand, his eyebrows knit at once.

There, right in front of him, is a pair of brand new work gloves.

* * *

_A/N: I am SO sorry for such a long wait! I haven't been in the mood to write, but I think now that I'm settling it'll be easier! I hope so, anyway. How'd you feel about the chapter? Stirring some things up, I hope. Tension is good, or at least that's what my professor tells me. Lots of love for all of you!_


	6. Silver Lockets

He doesn't even touch the gloves.

"Where did you get these?" he barks. Madge flinches back in shock, her lips parting slightly and her eyebrows furrowed together. "The gloves, Madge. Where did you get them?"

Her mouth moves to respond but it takes a while before she can finally say, "Why does it matter?" He locks his jaw and his eyes narrow in on her. "The Hob, Gale. I got them at the Hob."

"You know I don't like you going there alone," he growls. Gale pushes himself out of his seat and away from the table so he can pace. He runs a hand through his hair and looks toward the ceiling. "How'd you pay for them?" Her stomach twists. Why is he acting like this? "_Dammit_, _Madge! How_ did you _pay_ for them?" Her throat constricts. He stops pacing and looks at her. Really looks at her. Something inside him pops as he says, "Your locket?" There's a pause as she reaches for her empty neck. "You sold your locket."

"Gale—" but before she can even finish what she's saying he's got his jacket over his shoulders.

He grabs the gloves from the table and he's out the door in seconds, letting it slam shut behind him. Madge stares down at his half eaten bowl of stew and feels her insides crumble.

* * *

Gale doesn't know how he makes it to the Hob so fast, but he's there before the sun is even down. It's prime business time now, every station is bustling. Should he go straight to the jeweler in the corner? No, no, Madge wouldn't know where the jeweler's booth is. He can't remember who he introduced her to when he brought her all those months ago. The man who sells old piano music, but he told her that's never a fair deal and never to go there. And Ripper and the woman who sells thread and Sae and, oh, Sae!

At once he elbows his way through the crowd to the front of the booth. Greasy Sae stands tall and makes a face at him when he gets there. "Was she here?" he croaks. His voice is raw, his throat hurts from breathing in the cool night air. "Madge. Did she come to you?"

"Sure did," Sae nods.

"And the locket?" Sae sighs and reaches under the counter before extracting the small silver necklace. Gale exhales in relief and slumps over onto the counter and tosses the gloves over to her. Sae brings up his hand and makes sure it's fully in it before pushing it away. "Thank you," he pants. Sae nods slowly and gives a tiny smile. "I'll pay back whatever else we owe when we get the money. I don't know why she would—"

"You do so know why she would do that, Gale," Sae frowns. "Just be _thankful_ she came to me than to anyone else."

"I am," he says. Sae shakes her head and goes back to the brew that she's been serving. "Why're you looking at me like that?"

"She just wanted to help ya, kid. Was talkin' all about how excited she was to get you those damn gloves." Gale's stomach drops. "All she wanted was to make you happy, Gale."

* * *

Madge is in the living room when he gets back. She's wrapped up his dinner for him so he can eat if he's still hungry and put hers away. She tried her hardest to finish her food after he left but Madge just couldn't swallow.

She sits on the couch grading papers by candle light. Mostly she's trying to fight off tears, forcing her thoughts to be focused on the muttations in the Capitol rather than the complete mess she's just made of their relationship. At this point she's not sure which is worse. She lets out a deep breath and drags her red pen over the paper, correcting the spelling of a beast's name.

His footsteps are booming at the door but she refuses to turn, and then it all goes still. The threat of crying is much stronger now and she has to force it back. After a moment of silence she lets out a shaking breath. Like a hunter he walks so quietly she doesn't even know he's moved behind her. When he goes to move her hair she leaps at the contact. His fingers are cold when they brush her skin.

Still trembling she allows him to move her hair out of the way. He securely latches the silver chain behind her neck and lets the locket fall into place on her chest. It feels so heavy.

"Your dinner is on the table," Madge says. "It's wrapped so… so it should still be warm."

She feels him kiss the top of her head and a sob tries to claw its way up her throat. "Come eat with me," he whispers. Madge squeezes her eyes shut as he waits behind her. "Please."

Her hands shake as she leans forward to place the pen and papers on the table. Her legs wobble as she stands. Gale moves to the other side of the couch and offers himself as a guide, but she refuses. Madge tries to walk around him but Gale pulls her into his arms before she gets the chance. His clothes are still cold from outside, his arms are tightly locked around her. She rests her forehead against his chest and cries, finally allowing herself to break.

"No, no," his voice is rough as he rubs her back. "Don't do that. Madge, _please_ don't do that." She just can't _stop_.

"You're a-angry with m-me," she cries. "I j-just wanted to s-surprise y-you and you're m-mad."

"No, Madge, I'm not mad. I'm not mad at you."

"Yes you _are_!" She shoves herself away and turns from him, sucking back her sobs. "You stormed out of here like—like I slapped you across the face!" When she spins back to face him it looks as though she's done just that. His features look pained in the flickering candlelight. "I can't win with you, Gale. I'm always doing s-something wrong."

"That's not true."

"It is!" she snaps. "I can't do one good thing without it coming back to ruin me." Anger is starting to consume her. Madge balls her hands into fists. "Why can't you just let me do something right?" Gale drags his hands over his face and through his hair, taking a step back as though he's trying to think of the right words to say. What else is there to say? He picks her apart whenever he gets the chance. She can't _live_ like this. "I just want you to love me again," she finally croaks.

"I _do_ love you," Gale immediately growls. "You know I love you, don't _do_ this!" He shakes his head. "You always make me out to be the bad guy, Madge. It's not my _fault_!" Her mouth is dry and her chest is heaving from the yelling. "All I want is for us to be happy. I just want us to be happy." Gale steps toward her, his face crumbling. "I don't want us to fight, I just want us to be happy." Another step toward her, his hand reaches in her direction. "We didn't have the money. We _don't_ have the money for things like that. And if we do, _dammit_ I'd rather you get something than me!"

Madge's chin quivers. "No, that's not fair."

"That's not _fair_? And you selling the only thing you've got left to remind you of home _is?_" He takes another step forward and she doesn't move away. "Out of all of it that was the one thing I didn't want it to come down to." His eyes are on the locket that hangs on her chest. "It was you selling that locket. It was the one thing I had in my head that we'd never come down to."

"Gale—"

"And you did it for a pair of gloves."

"Because you needed them," she croaks. "Because I wanted you to have them because I _love_ you and I _hate _seeing you in pain!"

"I didn't need them," he says. "I didn't need them; I _told_ you I didn't need the gloves!" Madge shakes her head back and forth. "I told you I'd get new ones when we had the money, Madge! I told you that it happens every year!"

"_I don't care!_" she shouts. Gale pauses where he stands and stares her right in the eye. "I don't care," she says again. "I wanted, for _once_, to surprise you. You've been so upset lately I just wanted you to be happy. I just wanted to make you happy."

"You _do_ make me happy," he whispers. Madge shakes her head again but he takes the final step, closing the distance between them. At first she shoves him but he catches her wrists and refuses to let her hit him again. "You make me happy, Madge," he says. Again she crumbles, breaking down into tears. "I don't need expensive gloves, I just need you." He pulls her against his chest again. "I just need you."

"You n-never talk to me," she cries. "You never tell me when you're upset, you just hide it away. I _hate_ that, Gale. I hate that _so much_." He rubs her back again and she sniffles. "Talk to me. Please."

"I will," he says. "I swear. I'm sorry, Madge. I hate—" he sighs, dropping his forehead down to rest on hers. "I hate burdening you. I hate it so damn much. With money and with _feelings_ and with all the crap of the Seam. Goddammit, I _hate_ it!" Timidly, she lifts her face up to his. He releases her back and slides his hands up her waist before cradling her cheeks. "But I _love_ you. I will always, _always_, love you, Madge." He wipes away the tears with his thumbs and she swallows back her cries. "I told you before you married me that this life isn't living, it's surviving."

"And I told you I didn't care," Madge says. "I told you I'd rather survive with you than even _exist_ with you." He stares at her as though remembering the conversation, tipping his head forward. "I just don't feel like I'm _with you_ at all."

"No, I'm right here." Gale wipes her eyes again. "I didn't mean to blow up like that, I—" even in the candlelight she can see his eyes getting watery. "I just, I don't know what to do sometimes and I overreact and—" he shakes his head, pulling her close again and blocking out his face from her. "I hate upsetting you I hate living like this I hate that I can't get you everything you want; I can hardly get you everything you _need_, Madge." As his arms wrap around her body she feels him tremble. "I want to get you golden pins and pretty dresses and endless strawberries and I want to get you a piano for the living room and a roof that doesn't leak and I want to be home every second of the day just so I can sit with you and I want you to be happy all the time and I can't do it. I can't do _any_ of that."

Madge tries to pull away so she can look at him but he holds her tighter. Gale's entire body is shaking and he lets out a deep breath that sends shivers down Madge's spine. What can she say to get him to understand that she doesn't want those things? She just wants _him_ to be happy, she doesn't even _care_ about herself.

The two of them sway until they fall onto the couch together. Madge climbs onto his lap, her legs straddling his hips, and forces him to look at her like he did earlier.

"I don't want those things," she whispers. Gale looks toward the ceiling but she rests her hand on his cheek. "I just want you."

"You've got me," he croaks.

"Then I've got everything I need."

Gale's lips crash against Madge's desperately, his arms hold her hips steady and her fingers run through his hair. Every time they part for air he croaks, "I'm sorry," again and again until Madge quiets him with her mouth. "I don't know what to do." Her fingers pry at the hem of his shirt. "I'm sorry. I love you, _God, I love you_." The fabric eases up and over his head, they throw it behind the couch. Her hands slide up his chest and over the light pink scars. "I love you, _I love you_."

She kisses up his jaw and he stands. Madge tightens her legs around him and burns kisses down his throat. "I love _you_," she says back. He carries her to their room, kicking the door shut behind them.

* * *

They've been lying like this for a long time but Gale knows she's not asleep. She's got her head against his chest and her hand on his hip. Madge traces patterns along his skin, he feels her hot breath on his body. Gale curls his fingers through her golden hair, wondering where they'll go from here.

"Madge," he murmurs.

"Mmm."

"Promise me something?"

Without moving to look at him she says, "Anything."

"Promise me you won't try and sell that necklace again." The cold heart of the locket rests against his chest as well, like a needle piercing his skin. "If we need money we'll find another way to get it. Just never try and sell that again, okay?"

She draws a few more things on his hip before responding. A star. A tree. Of course, these are just Gale's guesses as to what her fingers are doing, he can't exactly see. "It's my necklace," she finally says. "I think I should get to decide what I do with it." Gale sighs and lets the curl around his finger go. "But if that's what you want," Madge adds after a moment.

"It's the only thing you've got left of your family." It'd be like asking Gale to sell the old watch that once belonged to his father, the one he takes down to the mines so he knows what time it is. "The meaning behind it is worth much more than what you'd make selling it." It's Gale's fault her father won't even look at her anymore, but he knows there was once a time in the Undersee household in which Madge was happy to be there. "I just want you to keep it." Besides, he could never afford to get her anything that nice. She should hold on to her luxuries as best she can. "Please?"

"If that's what you want," she says again. Madge goes back to drawing things on his hip. A heart. A bird. "But you have to promise me something too, then."

"Anything," he responds just as she had. Madge peers up from his chest and it takes him a moment to look down.

"Anything?" she echoes. He nods without hesitation. "You have to promise you'll tell me when something's wrong. You have to promise me that you won't shut yourself out, no matter what."

"I promise I won't do that," Gale whispers. He gazes into her eyes and sees sadness and it punches him in the gut. "I swear, Madge."

"And you have to promise that you won't blow up on me when you're angry."

"I didn't mean to—"

"Just promise me," she pleads.

Gale nods again, not breaking his stare with her. "I promise. I'm sorry, Madge, I just—"

"You blew up," she repeats tiredly. Madge rests her head back against his chest and nuzzles up to one of his scars. "Because you hold everything in and then all it takes is one little thing to set you off. Because you don't talk to me. You forget that this is a two way street, Gale. You want me to be happy but I want _you_ to be happy, too. And I can't be happy if you don't talk to me."

She snuggles into him and he tightens his hold around her waist. "The Seam is not the life I want to give you," he murmurs.

"It's the only choice we have as of right now," she says back. Gale grumbles. "With you on my side I don't care where we live, Gale. I just want you _on my side_."

"I'm always on your side," he says.

It may not seem like it, but he is, really. Goddammit, he loves Madge endlessly. _Endlessly_. She's right, he blew up on her. She's right, he doesn't talk to her. She's right, the Seam is the only option they have as of right now, and maybe forever. He's got to make the best of it. He's _going_ to make the best of it. Make-up sex is great but they can't have it every week, that would require fighting and he's so _sick_ of that. Gale decides, at this moment, that he's going to make a conscious effort to try and be better.

There's no way he's going to lose her.

* * *

Sunday morning when Gale sets out to the woods, nervously of course, Madge waits until the door clicks shut to get up. She slips on one of his old t-shirts, one with long sleeves that smells like the forest. She scribbles out a note for him as she pulls on a pair of jeans, just in case she isn't back by the time he gets home, grabs what she needs, and then she's off.

The trek over to Victors Village is long on this brisk morning but she makes it in record time. Madge _tap tap taps_ on Katniss' door and Peeta's the one to open. Both Victors have been living in the same home after they got married earlier in the year, but Peeta still owns the house down the street as well. He's got a steaming mug of coffee in his hand and bedhead like she can't believe. He lifts an eyebrow at her. "_Morn_ing," Peeta says carefully.

"May I come in?" Madge asks.

Peeta lifts his other eyebrow but steps carefully out of the way. "Long time no see, Madge," he laughs. Peeta shuts the door behind her and Madge sighs at the pleasant warmth of the home. She doesn't think her little shack in the Seam will ever get this warm in the winter time. "Everything okay?"

"Mostly," she nods. She paces through the home and finds Katniss at the dining room table nearly half asleep. "Good morning, Katniss."

"Mmmph."

Peeta chuckles and starts toward the kitchen. "Want some tea, Madge?"

"Sure," she nods. The blonde slides into the seat across from her friend as Peeta goes to get Madge her drink. "Are you even awake yet?"

"No," Katniss mumbles.

Madge laughs and readjusts her seat. "You used to wake up _way_ earlier than this to go hunting." Katniss waves her off and rubs at her eyes. "Not feeling it?"

"She hasn't had her coffee yet," Peeta calls from the kitchen.

"Mmph," Katniss says again. She stretches and throws her arms backwards, Madge hears her back pop a few times. "You're over early, Madge. Is something wrong?" Before Madge can answer Katniss is talking again. "Are you two fighting? Gale said something the other day that got me thinking and—"

"Katniss," Madge sighs. "We're working on it." The Victor furrows her eyebrows and her gray eyes cloud with curiosity. "We fought the other night but we talked it out and… and this time I think it's going to be different. Hopefully."

Peeta strolls back into the dining room with a cup of tea for Madge, as well as a mug of coffee for his wife. "This time?" he asks. "There were others?"

Madge chews her bottom lip and accepts the tea, blowing on the liquid to cool it off. "It's been difficult lately," she says quietly. Neither of her friends react, they sit in sound silence as she stares down at her tea. "What with Vick and the tour coming through he's been off. And… and there are other things too but it doesn't matter. We're okay." Katniss shifts in her seat. "He's not very good at talking things out."

"I could've told you that," Katniss mutters. She sips at her coffee and eyes Peeta. "But if you're not here to talk about that, then…"

"I messed up," Madge blurts. Finally she looks up at the two. "And I have an idea on how to fix it but I need some help." Before Peeta can launch into the _we're-always-here-for-you _speech Madge adds, "Well actually, it's more like I need some old fabric."

* * *

_A/N: Some of you were right in guessing the locket, I hinted at it by talking about her bare neck last chapter. So much angst I'm sorry I can't help it. Ideas on Madge's idea? I'm super into writing again, but I have a 15 page paper coming up so I have no idea when I'll get to update this. Lots of love. _


	7. Piano Tunes

He's not home when she hears a knock on the door.

It's bitter cold outside. The flowers Gale picked for her on Sunday aren't going to last much longer, Madge is surprised they survived out in the cold as it is. She dries her hands on a dishtowel and quickly goes to answer the door, her eyebrows furrowing together as she does so. Who would be coming on a Monday night?

When Madge pulls open the door she nearly leaps in shock. Out in the night is a scrawny boy, one with dark hair and bright green eyes. He's got a trail of blood running down his forehead from a recent wound, and his hands are hid behind his back.

He stares at her for a long time as though he's confused. "I, um," he stutters. "Miss Undersee?"

"Wesley," she breathes out. Her eyes study the cut on his forehead; she shivers from a gust of wind.

"Does Gale live here? He said, uh. He said it was 642 on West Oak but it's dark out and your, uh, your numbers are faded." He blinks a few times and winces, reaching up to wipe his forehead. She sees when he pulls his hand up that his sleeve is soaked in blood as well, and his knuckles are just as red. "You live here?"

She ushers Wesley inside and closes the door tightly behind him. "I'm his wife," she nods. "I'm Mrs. Hawthorne now, remember?"

"No." Madge drags him to the kitchen and forces him to sit in a chair. "He'll be home soon? I don't want to…" he trails off and squints, wiping at his forehead again. "My head hurts a lot."

"He just went to the bakery," Madge tells him. There's definitely something wrong with him, the way he keeps blinking and zoning out. "He'll be home soon. Don't worry, he told me you might come one day." Wesley nods a few times and blinks some more. Madge rushes to grab the kit under the sink that's been getting way too much use lately and goes back to the kitchen. She gets a bit of gauze and reaches to dab at his cut but he forces her away. "Don't touch me," he mutters. "I just wanna talk to Gale, that's all."

"_Wesley_," she warns. "Let me fix your forehead. It's bleeding pretty badly."

"I'm _fine,_" he grunts. Madge takes a step back from him and watches as Wesley rubs his temples. "Gale said I could come here and cool off that's it you don't need to take care of me because you're a damn teacher alright? I'm fine, Mrs. Hawthorne."

"Well Gale isn't here," she nearly barks. She hates it when children curse. Wesley's eyes pop open and she crosses her arms over her chest. "And he'll do the same thing when he gets here so would you rather me clean your cut or him?"

His green eyes focus in on her, his pupils dilating. Without waiting for him to answer Madge paces toward him and carefully dabs at his cut. He hisses through his teeth and she murmurs an apology under her breath. It's at this precise moment that Gale gets home, the door slamming open a bit too loudly due to the wind and causing Wesley to jump.

"Cold as hell out there," Gale grumbles. She hears him shakes his jacket off to hang by the door. "Nice in here, though." Gale's footsteps start to the kitchen. "Taftan sends his best from the bakery," he continues, marching in. "If he wasn't with Delly I swear he'd have eyes for—_Wesley?_" He stops in the doorway to the kitchen and stares at the kid at the table. "The hell are you doing here?"

"You said I could come," he answers. His eyes flutter again and he winces when Madge dabs his forehead another time. "I didn't know what else to do."

* * *

After Madge has patched up the wound on Wesley's head and taped up the scrapes on his knuckles, Gale pulls him aside. The kid won't make eye contact with him, just keeps looking at the floor or over to the kitchen where Madge has gone back to cooking dinner.

"It was too cold," Wesley finally murmurs. "I was gonna wait it out on my porch but it was too cold." Gale tips his head forward, wishing Wesley would tell him more. "She was drinking again and I wasn't thinking right, I've had a light head all day, said something smart and she just got angry."

"Wesley," Gale sighs.

"I didn't know what to do, alright? You said I could come here." Yeah, Gale said he could come here, he just honestly didn't think he would. "If you want me to leave tell me to leave. I'm used to hearing it."

"Of course not," Madge's voice rings out. She looks distressed, her eyebrows furrowed together and her hands on her hips. "You're staying for dinner."

"Mrs. Hawthorne," he protests. "I already depleted your medical supply, you shouldn't waste your food on me too."

"You're staying for dinner," Madge repeats.

She retreats back into the kitchen eyeing Gale as if to say _if you let him leave I'll never forgive you_. Wesley must know it too because he sinks onto the couch and drops his head into his hands. Gale stares at him for a moment, watching his shoulders rise and fall as he breathes. He wonders if at some point he ever looked like Wesley. His parents never hit him, no, but skinny and tired, probably.

Gale lowers himself on the couch next to Wesley. "She won't tell anyone," Gale says quietly. Wesley doesn't even turn his head. "You made the right choice, coming here." It's vicious outside, and the kid's clothes aren't very thick. No jacket, a hole in the knee of his jeans. He would've frozen in minutes. "Madge is just worried about you."

"She doesn't know me," Wesley grunts. "She doesn't have to be worried."

"It's in her nature," Gale responds. Wesley finally picks his head up, his eyes are dark and cold. "Tell me what's going on," Gale says.

Wesley holds his stare for a very long time, not speaking. Finally he says, "You don't know me, either. And I don't have to tell you."

"No, you don't," Gale agrees. "Except we've invited you into our home and have cleaned up your cut and made you dinner, so I think it'd be awful rude to disregard that entirely." He shakes his head and Wesley's gaze falters for a minute. "I know you've got manners. Use them."

It's quiet for a moment, nothing but a sizzle from the kitchen. "I haven't eaten in three days," Wesley suddenly croaks. Gale's frozen in his seat. "No, no that's not true. There've been little things, nothing good. Stale bread and… and some stuff from the trash." He winces as though his head hurts. And why shouldn't it? Not having eaten something substantial in a few days? Gale's hungry himself even though he had lunch. "I can't think right."

"Hey," Gale rests his hand gently on Wesley's shoulder, but the boy flinches at the contact. Quickly he removes it. "We'll get something in you, okay? Something good." Wesley stares down at the floor. "And something to take back home."

The boy grunts. "You don't need to do that."

"_Yes_, we do."

* * *

When Madge says a prayer before the meal, Wesley looks confused. There's no silverware other than a spoon to eat with and for that, Gale's sort of grateful. He's not sure if Wesley knows how to use a knife and a fork, most kids in the Seam don't. He takes to the stew easily though and carefully spoons little scoops into his mouth. Gale makes him take a slice of bread, too. Actually, three slices, and the boy eats all of them quietly.

Madge doesn't let the table get awkward once. She asks questions about what Wesley likes to do in his spare time and branches off from there. He likes to play cards and he's pretty good at it too. ("Once I got Bick Teller to buy me a chocolate bar from the candy shop because he lost.") Madge laughs, she's not good at cards at all. Wesley likes history class, but wishes they'd teach more about the Dark Days. ("They always leave all the interesting crap out.") He likes to sit by the fence at the edge of the District and watch the birds fly over, but right after he admits that he takes a big long drink of water and stares up at the ceiling. He likes the sound of the whistle; he wishes he could play an instrument, and is overly fascinated by those who can.

He's a good kid.

Gale wraps up a little bag for Wesley, a few pieces of dried meat and a slice or two of bread, before walking him home. The trip is spent mostly in silence, but when they reach his house he mutters out a _thank you_. Gale makes sure to reiterate the fact that their house is always open to him. Wesley looks a little less wounded by the time Gale's gone.

Back at home Madge is doing dishes quietly, scrubbing away as she does when she's thinking. Gale hangs his jacket by the door and kicks his boots off, marching into the kitchen quietly. She tilts her head in recognition that he's there but doesn't turn to greet him. By this point her fingers are wrinkled and pruny, she most definitely has that little _u _between her eyebrows. Gale carefully wraps his arms around her waist and leans down, propping his chin on her shoulder.

"It wasn't enough," Madge blurts.

"Shhh."

"It wasn't enough," she repeats. Gale's hold tightens, he buries his face into her neck. "I should've made him stay, I should've made him sleep on the couch or something. We just sent him back home to his mother, what if she gets angrier? What will he say when she asks about the bandage on his forehead or where he got that food?" Before Gale can stop it her eyes are welling up with tears. "I don't want him out there, he's unsafe and I don't like it. I don't want him to get hurt again, I don't—"

"Madge," Gale breathes. The tension dissolves in her shoulders but her hands tighten on the sponge in the sink. "We did all we could."

"No," she snaps. "We could've done more." He kisses her collarbone in attempt to distract her, but Madge is never swayed that easily. "He's out there now doing God knows what and—"

"You'll see him at school tomorrow, Madge." She must know this is true because she eases again, leaning into him. "Check up on him if you have to. I think he'll be okay tonight." Gale can't speak for the rest of the nights, but at least _tonight_ he'll be okay. And that's what makes the difference. "Okay?" Madge nods weakly, letting him hold her tighter. She releases the sponge and pulls out the last bowl, towel drying it and setting it on the counter. "You were great tonight," he whispers.

"Really?"

"Really," he nods. She turns to face him, her bright blue eyes searching up to hers. "And don't think I forgot."

"Forgot?"

"About my gloves," Gale murmurs. Madge's cheeks run pink and he ducks down, quickly pressing his lips to hers. When she did it he has no idea, but somehow Madge managed to patch up the holes in his gloves with some old fabrics. It's not the best fix and some places are a little thick and it's hard to squeeze his hand in, but it'll last until there's enough money to get him some new ones. "They're perfect."

"I was scared you'd be angry," she admits quietly. Gale shakes his head at once, pulling her chin up so she'll face him. Her eyes won't meet his, her cheeks are still bright. "You wouldn't let me get you new gloves but I had to do something."

"I love them," he says. "I love _you_." He kisses her again gently and her hands latch onto his shirt. "Tonight with Wesley…" he trails off, "and the gloves, I just put them on once I got down there, I had no idea." Gale tugs her closer to him, feeling Madge rest against his chest. "You continue to amaze me." She murmurs something against his chest but he can't hear her. "What was that?"

Madge pulls away and glances up at him. "Nothing," she smiles. "Just yawning."

* * *

_I don't want to lose you_.

Anytime anything happens Madge finds herself terrified that she's going to lose him. She can amaze him, sure, but how long until they're fighting again? She doesn't want to fight anymore, she wants to love him and she wants him to love her and she wants to be happy. Madge knows that it's difficult in this world, really, but it's honestly all she wants.

He wraps her in his arms at night and whispers promises she's not sure he can keep. Things about keeping her safe and trying to be better, not as irrational. Gale's always been irrational, and in District 12 how safe can she really be? But it's the thought that counts and she smiles and tells him she loves him and she's not going anywhere and she wants to stay like this forever.

She doesn't want to lose him.

Madge is so scared that one day she'll make some sort of mistake, do something she won't know that will make Gale so _angry,_ and end up costing them everything. She wasn't built for this life, she's only trying her hardest to make do.

"Madge," Gale whispers. She hums against him and feels him brushing her hair from her face. Half asleep she peers up at him. "Can I… can we talk? Are you too tired?"

"No, I'm fine," she insists. He tucks her bangs away and studies her face for a moment. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"Nothing," Gale shakes his head. "I just… don't know how to start." Nervously, Madge shifts, and then he shifts too. They're sitting up next to each other in a matter of seconds. "Seeing you tonight with Wesley…" he trails off, reaching up to scratch his brow. "It couldn't be more than a few weeks ago you had that pregnancy scare. Neither of us were ready, you panicked, I…"

"Gale?"

"Seeing you with Wesley tonight it… did something to me." His eyes scan her face before eventually finding her gaze. Gale's hair is a bit messed up and he seems a bit hesitant. When he smiles nervously Madge feels her heart pop. "I think we should try for kids," he says. Madge blinks, waiting for the punch line, but there isn't one. "We've got things to work on, I know that, but you… you're just so," he shakes his head. "I want a big family. And I want it with you. And I think we should try."

"There's so much to talk about," Madge starts. Gale deflates for a moment but eventually nods. "Gale," she reaches for him and his eyes flicker back to hers. "I want kids, but there's… there's the Reaping and the Seam in general and—"

"There's always going to be something," he murmurs. "There'll be something to dissuade you, something to dissuade me. I know that. District 12 isn't easy, but that shouldn't stop us."

She reaches up, cupping his face with both hands. "I love you," Madge says. His face fills with disappointment again but Madge stretches her lips, quickly kissing him. "Okay."

Gale leaps away, his eyes widening. "Okay?"

"Okay," she nods. "We can try." His smile breaks into a beauteous grin and Madge pulls him down, kissing him again. Gale laughs into the kiss, scooping Madge into his lap and wrapping his arms tightly around her. "We still," she tries to talk when they part but his mouth finds hers again, and then Madge is laughing too. "We still have to talk about things," she insists between kisses. Gale nods frantically. "Set aside money, stuff like that. And you and I..."

Still, he nods. Of course he doesn't care about the details, not right now. Gale's hands find hers and he laces their fingers together tightly as he smiles.

"You're going to be great," he tells her breathlessly. "A great parent, you know?"

"Gale,"

"You will be," he insists. Madge's heart stutters and his hold on her hands is more firm.

She wants to tell him that he'll be the best father, she just doesn't know how. She wants to tell him how excited she is to have kids with him, how _ready_ she _suddenly_ feels to start a family, but no words come to her mouth. All she can hear in her head, all she can say is, "I love you."

"I love _you_," he says back. "We can do this."

* * *

Madge keeps her eyes peeled for Wesley every day of school. When she sees him her heart is filled with such a burst of relief it's indescribable. He won't look at her or talk to her but that's okay. As long as she knows he's still around.

Wesley's wounds, from the distance Madge is at, seem to be healing just fine. Every once in a while she'll have cafeteria duty and she smiles when she sees him eating something. Where Wesley's gotten the food she doesn't know, but as long as he's eating she doesn't mind.

It isn't until a very cold winter afternoon does Wesley come to her classroom. There's gray snow everywhere, the beautiful white Madge once loved now ruined by the coal of the Seam. At night Gale's tries his hardest to describe the magic of the forest in the winter, where nothing is disturbed by the Capitol, everything is pure.

"Mrs. Hawthorne?" Madge looks up from her desk and finds Wesley in the doorway. The bell's just rung, he's hesitant to come in. She jerks her head and motions for him to come in, and he does so, closing the door behind him. "Are you… going home?" he asks.

Madge leans forward on her elbow and cocks an eyebrow. "What's wrong?" Her mind dives into dangerous territory but she doesn't let that show. "Is everything okay?"

Wesley hesitates again, his eyes never really meet hers. "It's my birthday," he finally says. Madge's other eyebrow lifts. "My mom, she never…" he trails off. "I don't want to go home."

She pieces it together in her head, guilt pooling in her gut. His mother will drink more today, will be angrier. He wants to go to her house, sit it out, wait. It's his _birthday_ and he doesn't feel safe enough to go to his own house.

"Of course," Madge nods curtly. "You're free to stop by, but I'm here for a little bit longer today. I've got piano lessons."

Wesley's eyes widen. "Piano lessons?"

"I teach," Madge nods. "You're welcome to stay until I'm done."

* * *

"Who _is_ that?" Posy whispers. The little girl glances over at Wesley who's sitting in the corner, staring down at a homework assignment and scratching his forehead with a pencil. Madge presses a piano key and Posy whips her face back to the instrument, the same time Wesley cocks his head in surprise. "What's he _doing_ here?" she asks quietly.

Madge presses another key and Posy frowns. "His name is Wesley and he's just going to sit there for a little bit, alright? Don't be nosy."

"C'mon, Madge," Posy grumbles, "being nosy and being curious are two totally different things!" After another key, Posy huffs and fully focuses on the piece in front of her.

Madge started giving Posy piano lessons during the last school year after the teacher discovered her student had dyslexia. Not only does the ability to play the piano in the music room of school help Posy with her homework, but the little girl is extremely talented. She's played in a few recitals, including the fall recital earlier in the year. The winter one is coming up in a few weeks, and Posy's yet to master the piece she wants to play.

As Posy taps out a tune Madge relaxes on the bench and casts a glance over her shoulder at the boy in the back of the room. He's kept quiet but something about it is different, there hasn't been the scratching of a pencil or any rustling paper.

When she finds him Madge realizes it's because he's not working anymore. Instead, he's staring at Posy as though he's seen the light.

* * *

_A/N: My heart melts for Wesley, and Madge who just wants to take care of him with her dang maternal instinct, and Gale who just wants to help. And then Posy... heh. Have a lovely day, I hope you're enjoying it._


	8. Quiet Talks

He comes home to the most shocking thing he's seen in a long time.

At Gale's kitchen table sits Wesley, wrapped in a blanket from the couch and entirely too focused on the homework he's working on. Madge is in the kitchen too, humming as she prepares dinner. Gale clears his throat and Madge spins around, smiling brightly at him. Wesley looks up for a moment but returns to his paper immediately, scratching his forehead with the eraser of his pencil.

Gale's eyebrows furrow more than once as he tries to figure out what exactly to ask. _Why is he here? What happened now? _It's been weeks since they last saw the kid and he'd be lying if he said Wesley hasn't been in the back of his mind for a majority of the time he's been absent.

"It's Wesley's birthday," Madge announces.

Gale's eyebrows lift and he looks toward the boy at his table. "That so?" he asks. Wesley looks up again and eventually nods, but then is back to working on his homework. Gale tries to bite back his smile but it happens anyway, and then Madge's smile stretches just a little too. Gale gives his wife a quick kiss before settling down at the table next to Wesley. "What's that you're working on?"

"Math," the kid grumbles. "Mrs. Hawthorne said if I want to stay I've gotta be productive. It was either my homework or sweeping."

Gale snickers. "You made the right choice."

* * *

Dinner this time isn't as awkward as it was the first time. Wesley still doesn't talk as much as Gale would like but he's not going to push him. These things take time. He's still surprised that Wesley chooses to come to Gale and Madge's home all on his own. Maybe the kid's never been offered a safe place before. Gale's happy to be the first.

"Wesley got to hear Posy play the piano today," Madge says. "Didn't you?"

"I did," Wesley nods. He swallows a spoonful of stew and wipes his mouth with the back of hand. "She's really good. _Really_ good. It's weird how good she is because she's not that old."

"She's thirteen," Gale comments. "That's plenty old enough to be good at the piano."

Wesley cocks an eyebrow. "You know Posy?"

"She's my little sister," he responds, his eyebrow just as high as the boy in front of him. The tips of Wesley's ears turn red and he drops Gale's gaze, staring down at his bowl. "Haven't you gone to the recitals? Posy plays in all of them."

"Why would I go to something so dumb?"

"Because it's free and you like music," Madge answers immediately. Wesley still doesn't look up from his bowl. "The next one's in a few weeks. Posy would probably really like it if you came."

_Now_ he looks up. "You think so?"

"Yeah," she nods, "I do."

* * *

Though it's not as good as cake or a some sort of candy, Madge bundles a few pieces of cinnamon bread for Wesley to take home in celebration of his birthday. She apologizes again and again saying she wishes she had something she could give him but Wesley only shrugs. Gale doesn't think the kid gets much ever, so even the bread has Wesley quietly embarrassed.

Wesley thanks Madge for letting him stay, and Gale insists on walking him back considering it's now dark outside. Expecting it to be silent like last time, Gale's surprised when he starts talking.

"My mom drinks a lot more on my birthday," Wesley grumbles. "The stuff she always says is pretty bad but it's worse on my birthday. She didn't want me to be born, you know? It's not like I coulda stopped it. It's not my fault. Right?"

"Of course that's not your fault, Wes," Gale says. "Don't blame yourself for things you can't control."

"It's just so hard," he mutters. "I try to be a good kid, I really do, but she never… my mom just doesn't…" he trails off, frustrated, and stares at the ground. "My dad left us before I was born. That's what she told me. He's some guy from town. Won't tell me who it is. Sometimes I sit outside the bakery on that bench, you know? The one right outside? And I just watch the people walking by. One of them's my dad. Gotta be. Do you think he even knows I exist?"

Gale lets out a deep breath. "I don't know, kid."

"I think if he'da stuck around my mom wouldn't hate me so much." Before Gale can even respond saying _she can't hate you_, Wesley's marching up the stairs to his door. He looks down at Gale and smiles crookedly. "Thanks, Gale. You and Mrs. Hawthorne, er, Madge… I wish you guys were my parents."

And then he slips inside, letting the door swing shut behind him.

* * *

Back at home Madge has finished the dishes and is sitting on the couch by the fireplace, looking over some papers by candlelight. Gale eases into the room and takes the spot next to her, and it doesn't take very long for Madge to curl up in his side.

"He's a good kid," she murmurs. "It was his 15th birthday, did you know? Not his 16th, I always thought he was turning 16. He looks so much older than he is."

"Seam'll do that to you," Gale grunts.

He wants to tell her what Wesley said, how the kid wishes Gale and Madge were his parents, but he doesn't know how or even how he himself feels about the topic. For a long time Gale treated his siblings as though they were his kids, simply because after his father's death he felt he had to shoulder that responsibility. Gale's always wanted kids. Always wanted someone to look up to him like he looked up to his father. They're trying for kids of their own but it's been a while and no luck thus far.

Suddenly Madge lets out a short breath of air and scratches at the paper below her. Gale is pulled from his thoughts and lifts an eyebrow, turning to see what it is his wife is working on. "What's that?" he asks.

"Nothing, it's—" Madge sighs when he snatches the paper from her hand. "It's nothing, Gale!"

A smile stretches across his face as he studies what's in his hands. "You're writing music?" It's a language he doesn't understand, but there are notes scribbled across the sheet which resemble the few pieces of piano music he's seen.

"I've just got this tune stuck in my head," she answers, not really meeting his eyes. "It's nothing, really. I just thought if I wrote it down…" Madge trails off, lifting her shoulders slightly. "It's nothing."

Gale places the paper back into her hands and scoots closer on the couch, sliding his arm behind her back and around her waist. "I want to hear it," he murmurs, "if you'll let me." In the firelight Madge's cheeks flush, and she finally glances toward Gale.

"I haven't played for you in a long time," she says.

Of course she hasn't, there's no piano within arm's reach anymore. When she lived in the mayor's mansion Gale would sometimes come in and listen to her play before they went somewhere, but here in their shack there's not even _room_ for a piano. The closest thing they've got is the one at the school and it's a bit out of the way, but she's taken Gale there before so he hopes she'll do it again.

"I know," Gale sighs. He wishes he could bring a piano home and squeeze it in the living room anyway and then she could play all day every day. Write music as often as she liked. "But I want you to."

Madge rests her head against him and smiles. "Of course I'll play it for you, Gale. When it's finished, though. It's just a mess right now."

Gale chuckles and leans down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Okay. I won't forget."

"I don't expect you to," she hums. Gale tightens his grip around his wife and smiles as she makes another edit. "When Posy was playing the piano today," Madge says, "Wesley was in the back of the room. He just kept staring at her, his eyes all wide. Even when he caught me looking at him he didn't look away. If we're not careful we might have a problem."

Gale chuckles again. "Posy always gets boys wrapped around her finger. It'll die out after a week or two."

"She has that Hawthorne family charm, I see."

He snorts. "Clearly." Madge shivers and inches closer. "Are you cold?"

"No, I'm okay."

"Here," Gale pulls away for a minute to grab the blanket hanging on the back of the couch, and then drapes it over the both of them. Madge places the sheet music on the table and then cuddles up to him, curling into his side. She fits perfectly in the crook of his arm, and underneath the blanket they lace hands.

"Gale," she says. Gale hums in response. "Do you remember that night all those months ago, the first time we held hands?"

He tightens his grip around her fingers and nods. "I remember." It had been after a party that was cleared out by peacekeepers. Madge and Gale ended up back at his house on the couch and somehow got on the topic of puzzle pieces. He had been dating a girl he hadn't really had feelings for, and when he linked hands with Madge he instantly knew why. _Puzzle pieces_. Their hands fit together perfectly, and they still do.

"It was so long ago."

Gale runs his thumb soothingly over hers. "It wasn't that long ago. It was the day Prim and Rory got engaged, that's just over a year." Just over a year. Gale is suddenly struck with the realization that he and Madge haven't even been together for a year. Short amount of time dating, a pretty short engagement.

Madge must be thinking the same thing because she says, "Do you think we should've waited?"

"No. I knew it'd be you." He shakes his head slightly and pulls her closer yet again. "It was always you. Nothing had ever felt more right." She nuzzles closer, her head resting against his chest. "What about for you?"

"I was head over heels for you long before you even considered me, Gale." Madge's eyes are closed but he can't stop staring at her anyway. "I didn't know right away," she admits. "We fought for a while. We weren't even _friends_. It just… happened. Before I even know what was going on I found myself itching to see you every chance I got." She looks up at him, her azure eyes bright and sincere. "That's how I always wanted it. To catch me by surprise."

For a moment he smiles, but then Gale drops her gaze. "I'm sorry," he murmurs. "For before. For being so awful to you." He would argue with her whenever he got the chance, he _hated _that she was Posy's teacher. Gale was frustrated by the curl of her hair, overly annoyed by the sincerity in her voice. Now it's those very things that he loves, that he wouldn't trade anything for. "If we had just given it a chance—"

"We did give it a chance," Madge cuts him off. She pulls her freehand up and lets her fingers graze his cheek, causing Gale's eyes to find her again. "And I couldn't be more thankful."

* * *

It's just like any other day when suddenly Gale storms into the house. He slams the door shut behind him and Madge leaps from her seat, rushing to meet him by the door rather than waiting for him in the kitchen. He kicks his boots off and slams his helmet on the hook and tears his jacket from his arms.

"Gale?" He grunts in response to her, not meeting her gaze. Madge gently takes the jacket from his hands before he can throw it on the ground, and only now does she see how upset he really is. "Gale what's wrong?"

He paces away from her and runs his hand over his face, shaking his head. "There was a…" Gale cuts himself off and shakes his head again, pacing back to her after she hangs his jacket and pulling her face into his hands. She stares up at him, confused, and then he says, "I _love_ you."

Before she can even respond he drops her face and paces away again, shaking his head once more. "You're scaring me," she blurts.

"There was a small mine collapse today," he finally croaks. Madge hesitantly steps toward him and when he doesn't back away she rushes forward. Her hands find his and now she sees the coal thick underneath his nails, despite the fact that he was probably wearing gloves. "It was just a small pocket there—there were only three guys back there."

"The sirens didn't—"

"I _know_ the sirens didn't go off," he rasps. "No one came to help, it was just us. They wouldn't even let us up the elevator to _get_ help, to _tell _someone!" He goes to march away but Madge tightens her hold on his hands. "We, we tried Madge, we really, we tried to get them out."

"Gale,"

"They're dead, all three of them. They're all dead." He shakes his head and Madge watches him crumble, his face filling with defeat and his eyes filling with regret. "We did what we could, oh, God, we tried so hard—"

"Gale, it's okay," she whispers. He shakes his head as if trying to get the thoughts from his mind. "It's okay," Madge repeats. "It's okay, really, it is, it's not your fault."

"I knew them," he cries. "I knew _all_ of them, they had families! And they're just, they're just _gone_ just like _that_." Finally he snatches his hands back and runs them over his face again. "I kept thinking what if it was Rory, or Thom or," Gale takes in a shaky breath. "Or me, what if it had been me?"

"Gale, please," Madge finds her own eyes watering as she hurries after him. "Don't do this, come here, come _talk _to me." He spins back around at once and lunges toward her, quickly and tightly crushing her body against his. Gale knocks the air out of her and only now does she realize how badly he's shaking. "It's okay," she forces out.

"I love you," he croaks, again and again. "Madge, when I was down there and I felt everything shift—"

"Don't," she pleads. "Please, don't." So he doesn't, and he holds her, and she lets him.

* * *

The days following the mini mine collapse leave both Madge and Gale in a funk. The news is announced to the entire District the day after it happens and there's a small ceremony for the families of the men. Instead of having the entire District show up in support it's a private ceremony, and in its place it's broadcasted on television. The two curl up to watch it together on the couch.

At night as they lie in bed Madge will trace patterns on his skin and Gale will curl his fingers through her hair. She peppers kisses across his chest and curls into his side, trying to figure out the best way to comfort him in a time like this. It's as though the two can never win. One good moment to grow and thrive from is buried beneath lumps of coal before it even gets the chance to breathe.

When Gale isn't home, Madge works frantically on the piano piece with the hope that she can play it for him soon. Maybe that will cheer him up, she's not sure. She hopes so. Madge often finds him staring at the fireplace and watching the flames flickering as though they'll tell him something he needs to hear. She wishes she knew what it was so she could say it herself.

_It wasn't his fault. _How can she get him to realize that? Perhaps he already knows that, he just wishes he could've fixed it or prevented it.

The men were people she didn't know, but of course working down in the mines day after day forms strong friendships. How well did Gale know them? Madge doesn't remember him talking about the guys, but that doesn't mean they weren't important to him. She bets at least one of them was even at their wedding.

"Gale, honey," Madge calls. He pulls his gaze from the fire and looks toward her with knitted eyebrows. She hesitates. "Are you okay?"

He hesitates, too. "C'mere." Madge quickly closes the distance between them and settles on his lap. Gale snakes his arms around her waists and lowers his chin to her shoulder, giving her neck a quick kiss. "I'm okay now," he whispers.

* * *

Everything about the mines is different after the passing of the three men. Everyone can feel it, it doesn't even have to be said. Even though everything above ground is melting and spring is on the way, the mines seem darker than ever. Heavier. Colder.

Thom and Rory and Gale work in silence. _Swing_ – _clack_._ Swing_ – _clack_._ Swing_ – _clack_. There's nothing to talk about, they let their pickaxes work away on the wall and hope it doesn't come tumbling down on them.

Days pass before the whispers start. _Their families didn't even get a damn thing. Old Marnie's pregnant, too. How's she supposed to take care of that kid now? The Capitol don't give a damn they lost three more, as long as they're meeting days ends. _And with the whispers come the plans. _What do you think they'd do if we stopped mining? How long would it take them to change things? We can't keep working like this, not anymore_.

Before Gale knows it he's approached. They're all on their lunch break and Gale's checking the time with the watch his father used to own. There's a picture of Madge on the side and it makes his heart heavy looking at it. Just six more hours of work to go and he'll be home to her. With a sigh he clicks it shut and slides it back into his pocket, reaching for his lunch.

His tin isn't even opened when he hears gravel crunching beneath boots, and looks up to find someone standing in front of him. It's a man a little older than him, someone he's worked with for a long time, named Landon.

"Hey, Hawthorne," he says. "You got a minute? I want to talk to you about something."

* * *

_A/N: Uh-oh. Lots going on in this chapter. Wesley's back (back again) and has got his eyes on Posy. And then there's sweet little moments between Gale and Madge slowly building their relationship back up. And then the collapse... and it was only a small one, can you imagine a big one? I wonder what Landon has to talk about. Actually, I know what Landon wants to talk about heh. Comments or concerns? Let me know how you liked it, or what the future will bring!_


	9. Unexpected Visitors

_Early A/N: Note that there are usually months in between each chapter. It's there in the text! This is not all happening in like a week haha. _

* * *

He decides to tell her their plan.

The miners had agreed to keep everything below the radar, were advised not to talk about it above ground where there were always people watching and listening. But he _has_ to tell her.

It's after dinner and the two are curled up on the couch. Madge has her nose in a book and is squinting to read the words. There isn't much light outside and the candles are down to their ends. His fingers trace circles on her hips and she rests against him, in her own little world that he hates to have to interrupt.

"Madge," Gale murmurs. She doesn't respond right away, her eyes darting up toward him before back down to the book. She makes some sort of noise that suggests he should wait a minute, and then Madge finally looks up for good. "You might want to close that."

"I'm almost done this chapter," she says. But when his eyes harden she nods, quickly placing her bookmark between pages and letting it shut. "What's wrong?"

"Why do you always assume something's wrong?"

"Is something not wrong?" she asks. Gale smirks and Madge sighs, inching closer to him.

"It's not necessarily wrong," he says. Not _really_. It's not… smart, probably. But it's not _wrong_. In fact, this feels very _right_. "Remember how the mines collapsed a few weeks ago? Killed those three guys?" Hesitantly, Madge tips her head forward. Her eyes are filled with concern, her lips slightly parted. "All of us down in the mines, we didn't think… we _don't_ think it's fair how they treated their families. Barely any compensation. Nothing to really help them on their feet, you know? They all had families."

"What are you getting at?" she whispers, leaning to place her book on the coffee table.

Gale stretches his hand forward and gently curls his finger through her hair. Outside it's starting to warm up a bit, winter is melting and grass is sprouting in the dirt walkways of the Seam. Along with the new season Madge is different too, her eyes a bit more blue, her cheeks a little more pink. It's as though she's coming back to life again as well, finally adjusting to the changes of the Seam and embracing it as her home.

"We've got a plan," Gale says.

"A plan for _what_?" He sighs again, dropping his hand from her hair. It's complicated. The whole thing is complicated and he's not even sure why he agreed to it. "Is this why you've been coming home late?" Madge asks. "You and… and the miners. You've been planning something."

He hated sneaking around her back, should've known she noticed. At least her thoughts hadn't strayed to something more unfavorable than this. Or maybe they had, but with the admittance of this _plan_ she's realized it can't have been true.

"If something happens to me down in the mines, Madge, I've gotta know you're being looked after. Taken care of."

"Gale—"

"It could happen any day," he blurts. All of a sudden he can't keep the urgency from his voice, the desperation that she _needs _to understand him. "Me dying. At any moment, and if it does I need to go knowing that you—"

"It's not going to happen," Madge nearly cries. Her voice shakes and her hands slip up to his cheeks, forcing him to look down at her. "It was one little collapse, Gale. You're not going to die _any day_!"

"I could," he murmurs. Her head shakes but he nods carefully. "You know it, don't even try to deny it." It's not something the two have really talked about, how every day when the elevator lowers into the ground he's putting his life at risk. Whether it be they haven't thought it necessary or they're both avoiding it, Madge and Gale both know any day could be his last. "So we came up with this plan."

Madge pulls away from him and swats at her eyes. "Well what is it?" He can tell she's trying not to cry, trying not to get too worked up. "This brilliant idea."

"We're going on strike," he whispers. She's shaking her head immediately, staring at him with sharp blue eyes and a worry line that makes him sweat. "Madge, just listen to me—"

"You are _not_ going to go on strike, Gale Hawthorne," she nearly growls. "They'll _kill_ you for that!"

He groans, "They're _already_ killing us!" Gale grabs both of her hands with his and squeezes tightly. "They treat us like dirt. Shitty hours, crappy pay. There're hardly any protection policies for us in place! If we get hurt down there, if we _die_ it's _our fault_." Madge's eyes are filling with tears at this point and she inhales sharply. "If we don't make a stand, if we don't work for a change then there's never going to be one."

"There are other _ways_," she chokes. "Resolutions, laws, bills…"

"Madge, baby," Gale continues to shake his head. "You know that's not gonna work. If it could be resolved that easily then it would've been done by now." His eyes drop down to her stomach. They've been trying for months now for a kid and there's still nothing. "When we get that family we're working for Madge everything's going to change." And now Madge is shaking her head, unable to look at him. "Like hell I'd leave you and our kids alone in this world without a chance to defend yourselves, to grow."

"You _won't_," she croaks.

Now instead of her cupping his cheeks it's the other way around. "I know. Because we're doing the strike." Her chin quivers and he wipes under her eyes with his thumbs. "We need to show them that we won't stand for this."

"They'll kill you," she whimpers. "Gale, please—"

"They're not going to kill me," he reassures her. "They're not going to kill any of us. We're just going to change things." Gale bends down so his lips can graze hers. "This'll be good, Madge. I swear. It's about time we started changing things around here."

Madge squeezes her eyes shut but hesitantly tips her head forward. "I just don't want to lose you," she whispers. He kisses her again and feels it in his stomach. "When is it? This strike you're talking about?"

"We're still setting a date," he tells her.

"You should wait for it to warm up some more," she says. Her eyes flutter open and her eyelashes are wet. "That way people won't need the coal to keep their houses warm. You know they'll send the coal to other Districts before keeping it here." Gale tips his head forward, he can agree with that. He'll bring it up at the next meeting. "Gale," she reaches forward and tugs on his shirt. "What if they punish all the protestors?"

"They'll be punishing everyone."

"You know how corrupted our government is. They would do it." Gale frowns but Madge only pulls him closer. "What if they take everyone to the whipping post? Ten lashes each?"

"I've had 40."

"And nearly died," she grumbles. Her hands bunch his shirt. "I just don't want you to get hurt. Promise me you won't get hurt?" And again, he kisses her, nodding his head forward.

"I promise."

* * *

Madge is highly distracted through her lecture. She trails off and forgets what she's already said and students end up pointing out that she's repeating herself multiple times. Finally Madge decides to stop talking and have them read from their books instead, giving her some time to think.

How _stupid_ can Gale _be_? If only she knew what to say to talk him out of it, she would. Doesn't he understand how dangerous this is going to be? A strike? If all goes well the miners will end up with the same hours and the same pay, if it goes to hell… she doesn't want to think about that.

But Madge _knows _that it isn't going to get any better. It can't. She lived in the mayor's house for the entirety of her life, listening through doors at conversations about these sorts of things. There isn't going to be a change because the President has District 12 exactly where he wants them.

At the end of the day while Madge is cleaning her chalkboard and focusing on the dust particles that dance around her, she feels the air shift. Someone clears their throat and she tenses up before slowly turning around with a smile.

"Mr. Wentworth," she says brightly. The overseer of education is back, his thick square glasses making his face seem disproportionate and his hair filled with so much gel she's sure she could squeeze some of it out. "How are you? I hadn't known you'd be stopping by."

"We've just passed the halfway mark of the school year," he says, marching into her classroom a bit. "I always visit then."

"Of course," she nods. Madge lowers the chalkboard eraser and goes over to shake his hand. "It's always a pleasure," Madge lies. Just the sight of this man makes her sick. He has too much power and will use it whenever he so pleases. "Have you seen the other teachers already?"

"Yes, you're last on my list. I still have you penciled in as_ Undersee _so you're at the bottom. I truly must change that one of these days." His grip is strong and her fingers turn white. To mask her pain her smile only widens. "How is the husband doing?"

"Wonderful as always," she says. "Enjoying spring."

"I can imagine," Mr. Wentworth nods. He gestures to her desk. "Mind if we sit?" Quickly Madge scurries across the room, placing herself behind her wooden desk and sitting up straight, waiting for him to sit across from her. "I've looked over the results of the midway tests for your class and they're higher than they've ever been, Mrs. Hawthorne. I want to say how impressed I am."

"I value the education of my students," she says. "Whatever must be taught I make sure they know it."

"I'm well aware." He fingers through the file in his hands and smiles coldly. "Impressive. Very impressive." She doesn't quite know what he's referring to she only straightens her posture, smiling a bit brighter. "You see, Mrs. Hawthorne, there's always been something I've liked about you."

"That's very kind."

"Not only are you such a zealous teacher but the way you present yourself is incredible." Madge feels her heart stuttering nervously in her chest. "Perhaps it has to do with the fact that you were raised in the mayor's household. How is your father?"

"We haven't spoken recently," she says, "but I'm sure he's fine. Very busy, as always."

"Yes, yes. You've learned a lot about presentation from him, I'm sure."

"I was educated in diplomatic arts as well as public speaking," Madge says. "He wanted me to take over his role of the mayor when I was younger and taught me very much about presentation. So yes, I learned a lot from him."

"And that's why I think you're perfect for the job."

Madge pauses. "The job?" Not mayor, she hopes? Are they going to kick her father out of office? Do they need someone else? "What job?"

"As you're well aware, Mrs. Hawthorne, I'm the overseer of education for all of Panem. The overseer of education for District 12 has fallen ill and we're not sure he will be recovering." Mr. Yeun? How did Madge not know about this? She hardly speaks with the man, sure, but she's sure she would've known if he had fallen ill. "We're looking for a replacement."

"Oh," she exhales. "And you think I could do it?"

"Perhaps," Mr. Wentworth nods. There's a look in his eyes that isn't friendly. "You already know what a government job is like having spent so much time with your father, I'm sure you would take Mr. Yeun's place with ease."

Madge blinks rapidly and tips her head forward. Of course she knows what comes with a government job. A house in town. A hefty pay. A camera in every room that monitors your behavior. A mask that everything is okay when you're really just a puppet on a string.

"This isn't an offer, Mrs. Hawthorne," Mr. Wentworth says, "we're just making conversation. Of course, however, I'd ask you to think about it in case an offer ever does appear."

"Absolutely," she croaks.

* * *

She decides not to tell Gale about what her overseer has said to her. He's too preoccupied as it is with his plans of striking and she doesn't want to distract him more. Maybe after the whole mess Mr. Wentworth will realize she's not cutout for the job after all and leave her alone.

"Madge, baby," Gale wraps his arms around her waist as she washes the dishes. "You're distracted about something. I was hoping you'd bring it up but I know you won't. So I'll ask. What's wrong?"

"You and that dumb strike," she blurts, though it isn't necessarily true. Gale smiles into her neck and presses a kiss to her throat. "How am I not supposed to be distracted?"

"Mmm," he sighs and tightens his hold, and Madge lets the bowl she's working on sink into the sudsy water. "You've got nothing to worry about. Landon's got it under control."

"Gale," she sighs too. "He's barely two years older than you. What makes you so sure he knows what he's doing?" He spins her in his grasp and watches as she looks up at him. "Will you at least tell me when you're doing it?"

"You'll just worry more," he hums. "And the last thing I need is you getting gray hair." Madge frowns and he smirks, leaning down and quickly pressing his lips to hers. "Can we not talk about that? I feel like it's all you want to talk about these days." Her fingers find his belt loops and he smiles wickedly. "That's not what I meant but I mean—"

Madge rolls her eyes as she presses herself on her toes to kiss him, cutting off his words. "It's all I want to talk about because I worry about you." She kisses him again. "Because I love you. And if I woke up one day and you weren't there hogging all of the blankets I haven't the slightest idea what I'd do." Gale grins and tugs her away from the sink. The two release their holds on each other and their hands find one another, linking carefully as he pulls them to sit on the couch. "What do you want to talk about?" she asks him.

"I want you to play me that song," he says. "The one you were writing."

Madge frowns. "It's not done."

"Fine," Gale frowns too. "Then I want you to tell me what it sounds like."

Madge lets out an airy laugh. "That's a ridiculous request and you're beating around the bush." Gale cocks an eyebrow and Madge shrugs. "You say you know when I'm distracted. I know when _you're_ lying." One of her hands trails up his chest. "It's what we do, Gale."

Gale smiles crookedly and shrugs too. The mask he had been wearing fades slightly and he drops his gaze to her stomach, only to look back up and meet her eyes.

"Has anything… changed?" he asks. He looks back down at her stomach but this time doesn't look up. "We've been trying for months, now."

"Gale," she traces her hand up his neck and cups his cheek carefully. Her other hand finds his and squeezes tightly. "The second I know anything I'll tell you. But for now, no. Nothing's changed." He lets out a deep breath and finally nods, looking back up toward her. "It'll happen when it's supposed to happen," she tells him. Her eyes drop down to where his hand has crept up to rest on her stomach. "Until then…"

"What if we can't?" Gale asks. She looks back at him instantly, finding true panic in his gaze. "What if you can't get pregnant or I can't—" he cuts himself off trying to swallow. His gray eyes swim with true fear and Madge can't help but scoot onto his lap. "Madge," he croaks. Gale rests his forehead on her shoulder and squeezes her body against his. "God knows I love you. I do, so _damn much_. But before you all I wanted was a family, and it seems like—"

"We'll have one," she quietly promises. He lets out a shaky breath and nuzzles into her neck. "I want a family too," she whispers. _It's spring_, she wants to say. _With spring comes new life_. Maybe that means, maybe the two of _them_… she forces his chin up and gives him a deep kiss, shuddering when he sighs her name into her mouth. "C'mon," she parts, breathless. "Let's go to bed."

"Bed?" he asks with an eyebrow high.

"Yes," she nods. "Take me to bed, Gale." He chuckles briefly before kissing her again. Gale scoops her into his arms and she wraps her hands behind his neck, giggling as they move off to the bedroom.

* * *

It's become a sort of habit for Wesley to walk home with Madge after school. He's more open now that a few months have passed, puts more trust in her than he did that very first night. Unlike the cold, sharp kid she first met he's much more pleasant now. He smiles and laughs and talks abundantly about the things he likes to do.

She first noticed the change after he sat with Gale and Madge during the winter recital. Madge watched him gaping at Posy on stage, how her fingers tapped out such a beauteous tune. Posy always seemed to get a standing ovation but Wesley was most definitely the first one on his feet that time.

Now that it's warming up Wesley is once again in a better mood. "There're a few kids in my class who wanna play kickball today," he tells Madge. "They invited me. Cool, huh?"

"I was never any good at sports," Madge says, "but that does sound cool. Have you played before?"

Wesley shakes his head and lets his hair fly too. "My mom doesn't like it when I go out." Madge waits a moment, chewing on her lip. "But I really want to go, so I'm gonna go. Is that okay? Do you think that's okay?"

"I'm sure she'll understand," Madge nods. Wesley smiles brightly. "Is that all you're doing today? Kickball?"

"Nah, I'm going to Posy's to study," Wesley says.

Madge bites back her smile and asks, "What are you studying?"

"Oh. Nothing." She nudges him with his elbow and Wesley laughs. "It's nothing, Madge!"

"When'd you start calling me Madge?" she questions with a laugh of her own.

"When Posy said it was weird that I called you Mrs. Hawthorne," he answers immediately. The two reach their point on the walk where they split paths and Madge pauses a moment. She looks down at Wesley with his bright green eyes and dark hair and smiles. "If I tell you what we're studying you can't tell anyone, alright?" There's no joking to his tone and it shocks Madge into a silence. She nods and rocks on her heels. "It's not really studying at all."

"Wesley Beau if you and Posy are sneaking around and you expect me not to tell her mother then you—"

"Madge!" His cheeks turn pink and he looks down at his feet. "Calm down!" Madge lets out a deep breath and crosses her arms over her chest. "We're not doing… that… whatever _that_ is that you're thinking." Oh, she's going to tell Gale anyway. She has to. If anything he'll get a kick out of it.

"Well if you not doing _that_," she mimics his voice, "then what—"

"We're trying to figure out who my dad is," he says quietly. "I thought maybe you could help."

* * *

_A/N: Lots of little things going on! Woohoo! I love subplots and main plots and revolutions and how this will all eventually tie together. Sorry it takes me eight years to update between chapters haha. I love you all and hope you're still enjoying the story! Lots of love. _


	10. Job Offers

He bounces his foot to keep himself focused.

They're all crammed into Landon's tiny shack of a home. Well, not everyone. There are a lot of miners. Only the important people are here, so Gale's guessing that he's important. Thom's here too, but Rory isn't, and that's okay with him.

Landon's voice is quiet so the miners must be quiet as well. These meetings are getting more difficult as time goes by. The closer they're all getting to the strike the more nervous everyone is starting to be. Everyone keeps glancing out the window and whenever anyone walks by, whether it be a child or a peacekeeper, and the entire room turns silent.

"I think we should wait a few weeks," Gale says. Everyone turns to look at him. "It's warming up but it's still hardly spring. Sure, the grass is growing but we still wake up with frost on our windows."

"Why does that mean we should wait?" Landon asks.

"Because when we stop meeting our coal quota they're going to send all of it outside the District and we won't have anything to make fire with," he answers. "When it gets warmer we won't need to rely on fire to cook and heat our home, just to cook. And we can eat things without cooking them."

Landon tips his head forward. "That makes sense." And then suddenly everyone else is agreeing as though they had all already thought of this. "Two weeks," Landon says. "We'll push it back two weeks to the third Monday of March."

After a few more minutes of quiet discussions about details and more details the room finally clears. Thom waits but Gale motions him forward anyway, he wants to talk to Landon for a minute. The man must know Gale is waiting for him because he doesn't leave the living room or get up to start cleaning. He gestures for Gale to take a seat beside him and hesitantly he does so.

"You're having second thoughts," Landon says. He's only two years older than Gale, not even 30 yet, but seems so much older. He has a voice that is powerful and convincing, and an award winning smile. "Aren't you?"

"I'm just worried about the consequences," Gale finally admits. If it wasn't for Madge constantly berating him about the whole mess than it never would've crossed his mind, or at least not in this retrospect. "I don't want my wife to have to sleep alone."

"She won't," Landon says. "This will all go according to plan. Trust me."

"It just doesn't feel substantial enough," Gale says.

"Gale," Landon stretches forward and rests his hand on Gale's shoulder. "You've said it yourself before. Things aren't going to change unless we work for it. Don't you believe that?"

"I do," he nods. "But—"

"First the mines," Landon says, "then the woods. The Seam. District 12 will never be the same after this."

Gale shifts and inches away so his hand falls. "The woods?"

"Weren't you reported for hunting?" Landon asks. "We've been living in fear much too long. We shouldn't be scared to do the things we love, we shouldn't be scared to take care of our families." Gale swallows thickly and inches away again, narrowing his eyes at the man in front of him. "What?"

"I never told anyone," Gale nearly growls. "About getting reported." Landon doesn't react, only shifts in his seat. "How did you know?"

"Everyone knows."

"No," Gale barks, "everyone does _not_ know!" He drags a hand through his hair and forces himself to his feet. "It was you," he blurts. "You're the one that reported me."

"Gale—"

"I'm out of this," Gale exhales. He makes toward the door but Landon is too quick, leaping up to his feet and getting in the way. "You put my family at risk!" Gale shouts. Anger is pulsing through his veins. "You could've gotten me _killed_!"

"I needed you on my side," Landon says calmly. Gale shakes his head but Landon isn't going to let him leave without speaking. "You know how skeptical people were about joining the cause before you joined! It was a necessary push to get you to see how corrupt the government is, so when the time for _this_ came around you didn't question it!"

"Corrupt government?" Gale hisses. "_This_ is corrupt. You've _tricked_ me into this."

"But this is what you wanted," Landon stresses. He throws his hands up in the air. "You don't want your wife sleeping alone? Well if you die down in those mines that's exactly what's going to happen." Gale feels his heart in his throat and tries to swallow it down. "You needed the push, Gale. And I needed you." Landon steps out of the way and opens the door for Gale, letting the silence build up. "I'll see you at work tomorrow."

Gale walks away without looking back.

* * *

The bell on the front counter is not there, and at this discovery Madge frowns. She drums her fingers on the jewelry case in front of her and stands on her toes so she can peer into the back room.

"Jace?" she calls. "Are you in?"

Jace Morin is the (soon-to-be) owner of the jewelry shop in town. He and Madge had been friends for a very long time before she got married to Gale, in fact they even dated once. Now their friendship is strained but not because of her marriage, though she admits it once was. The walk to the jewelry store is much farther now that she lives in the Seam and it often feels like she doesn't have time.

He's a blockhead of a man. Jace is prejudiced and sarcastic. He wants things to go his way or not at all. They fight often, it's true, but Madge and Jace always end up as friends again. He's one of those constants she needs in her life, someone to argue with when she's angry.

"Madge? Is that you?"

A few moments pass before a tall lanky man emerges from the back room. He has on a face mask and gloves up to his elbows. There's a crooked smile on his face and he brushes his light brown bangs from his forehead after removing the mask.

"Your bell is missing," she tells him.

He laughs, his green eyes twinkling. "I put it away so I could work in peace." He places the face mask on the counter and goes to remove his gloves. "What's up?"

"I thought I'd stop by," she says. "Say hello." Jace smirks, the corners of his mouth turning upward. "Gale's been coming home later these days and I don't like being there alone longer than I have to be."

Jace cocks an eyebrow. "What's he coming home later for?" His glove smacks off and his eyebrows knit angrily. "Does he have a reason?"

"He's got a reason," Madge mutters. "Get your head out of the gutters."

"Hey," Jace frowns. "I told him before he even asked you to get married that if he ever hurt you I'd rip him a new one." Madge rolls her eyes and picks a bit of coal dust out from under her fingernails. "If he's sneaking around who's to say he's actually doing what he says he's doing? What if he's seeing someone behind your back?"

"For the love of God," Madge groans, "I _trust_ him."

"I don't," Jace grunts. He yanks his other glove off with a smack as well. "Still don't understand why you married him." His eyes dart to the ring on her finger and Madge frowns again, shifting her eyes up to meet his. "But hey, it's your life."

"You're 25 and alone," Madge points out. "Maybe if you didn't hate everyone then you would've found someone to settle down with by now." _Instead of being hung up on me_, she thinks

"I don't hate _everyone_," he grumbles. Madge cocks an eyebrow. "Geez, Madge, stop sticking your nose in business that isn't your own." She holds her hands up in defeat and makes her way to the door. "Aw, leaving already? I didn't even get to ask you how life in the Seam has been."

"Maybe if you would stop by you would know," she retorts, pausing by the door. "I've known you practically my entire life, Jace," Madge sighs. "But I'll never understand this never-ending grudge you have against the Seam, _or_ its residents."

Jace sighs and slumps onto the counter. "I'm working on it, Madge. You know that."

"More effort, please," she says. "You should come for dinner sometime." And then she's out the door.

* * *

Madge is surprised to find Gale home when she gets there. He's pacing back and forth, dragging his hands through his thick hair and mumbling to himself. She carefully inches into the room and the second the floorboards creak he stops, turning to her and forcing a smile.

"Hey!"

"Hi," she laughs a bit. "What are you doing?" He shrugs and resumes pacing, only now he's not mumbling to himself or looking as panicked. "Gale?"

"You weren't home," he says. Gale marches across to her and tugs her hips toward him before leaning down and carefully kissing her. "Got nervous."

She laughs against his lips and furrows her eyebrows. "I just went to see Jace." Gale makes some noise of disapproval deep in his throat so she pushes herself on her tiptoes to kiss him again. "I thought you'd be out later. You okay? You seem stressed." Gale slides his hands around her waist and pulls her toward him in a crushing hug. She frowns into his chest but lets him tighten his grip, sighing into him. "What's wrong?"

"I meant to start dinner," he says. "But I was distracted. I'll start now." He releases his hold on her but she quickly tugs on his belt loops so he can't move. Gale reaches down and gently brushes a strand of her hair from her face. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs.

"C'mere," Madge tugs him to the living room and forces him to sit on the floor. Gale chuckles as she sits behind him on the couch and leans his head so he bumps her knee. Her hands find his shoulders and she quickly starts kneading his skin, listening to him sigh. "Your neck is so tense," she whispers.

"Long day," he exhales. "I'm just—I've got a lot to think about." Madge bends down and kisses his exposed neck, smiling as he sighs again. "It's just… when you think you know something and then everything changes. It knocks the air out of you, you know?"

Madge has her thoughts about what he's talking about but she doesn't press him any further. Talk about the strike upsets him as it is, and if things aren't working out she doesn't want to make things worse. "Sure," she nods.

"Well, it's like that." He shudders and eases more into her touch as he breathes. "My voice isn't that important, is it? Like me, as a person."

Her fingers fumble for a moment before she quickly resumes the backrub. "What do you mean?"

"If I was to say or do something it wouldn't really… affect that many people. Would it?"

"I don't know," Madge hums. "I always thought you were very opinionated. People listen to you when you talk." Something in his shoulder pops and Gale lets out some noise of satisfaction. "Ever since you were a teenager people have looked toward you. First it was just your family, but you have a lot of say in a lot of things. People in the Hob respect you, and they're a big part of District 12." Madge pauses. "When you were whipped it changed a lot of things at the time for people. How they acted. I think you have more power than you think."

"Well I don't want it," he murmurs.

She laughs. "Yes you do. You can use it to your advantage."

"What about Landon?" Gale blurts. "You think what he's got to say affects a lot of people?"

"I guess so," Madge nods. "If he's gotten the whole lot of you to join him." Gale shifts and rests against her knee again. "What he does doesn't really affect people close to him, though. He's not married, is he?"

"He was once," Gale says. "Kids, too." Madge pauses and Gale nudges his way closer to her. She doesn't even need to ask. "The plague got them." Gale pulls away from her and shakes his head. "I'm amazed you didn't catch it this winter."

"What?"

"The plague, it's not… it's not really a plague. It goes around the Seam every winter and just wipes people out. It's usually treatable but sometimes, if they don't get care soon enough…" Gale shakes his head again. "There was a reason I brought home so much tea this winter, Madge. Made you drink it all the time. I didn't want you getting sick." Madge's hands fall from his shoulders and Gale lifts himself up and onto the couch next to her. "It's a onetime thing but it can hit at any age. I had it when I was a kid, so did everyone else in my family. Did you ever—"

"I was never… really sick, ever, you know. My dad made sure of that because of my mom."

"Yeah," he nods. "Well, that's what happened to Landon's family. Only they didn't catch it soon enough and it… didn't end well."

"Great," Madge breathes.

Gale suddenly pulls her cheeks into his hands and presses his mouth to hers, running his tongue on her bottom lip. Madge moans and knots her hands on his shirt, pulling him closer. Gale quickly pulls away and feathers a kiss to the corner of her mouth, causing her to glare.

"Don't you worry about it," Gale says. "I won't let you get sick." She rolls her eyes as he delivers another kiss. "I guess he's really got reason to change things, doesn't he? I never thought about it that way."

"I thought this was just about the mines," Madge wonders.

"It's got to start somewhere." He goes to stand, pulling her with him. "Let's make dinner together tonight."

* * *

Again Madge finds herself cleaning off her chalkboard when there's an unwelcome visitor. She's able to identify him by the sound of his footsteps now and has trained herself not to flinch in his presence.

"Mr. Wentworth," she calls over her shoulder. She doesn't turn around until every mark from earlier in the day is gone. "How may I help you?" The man with thick glasses and slicked back hair marches farther into her room, his lips curling into the deadliest smile she's ever witnessed. "Is everything okay? I feel like you were just in here yesterday."

His laugh is cold and hollow. "Of course not, Mrs. Hawthorne." She places the eraser on the ledge of the chalkboard and goes over to greet him. They shake hands and she apologizes for getting him covered in chalk dust. "Don't mind that. I'd much rather be covered in chalk than in coal."

"Hm," she forces a smile.

"Speaking of which," he turns toward his bag and begins to rifle around for something. Finally he pulls out a thin manila folder. "I've come to give you that offer."

"Oh."

"Mrs. Hawthorne," Mr. Wentworth begins, "not only will you receive more pay than you already do you'll be given a nice clean home in town, away from all that coal dust. Who would want to start a family there, where you can't even breathe?" The man hands her the folder, and if he notices her shaking hands makes the choice not to say anything about them. "Read the contract over," he urges. "I'll be back tomorrow afternoon for your answer."

Before Madge can even respond he's walking away, his squeaky boots heavy against the tile.

Mr. Wentworth pauses by the door. "Oh, and Margaret?" he calls. All the air leaves her system, she can't look up from the item in her hands. "Be smart about this."

* * *

"I need to talk to you."

Gale freezes immediately when he hears those words, standing by the door and staring in at the living room where Madge sits. No hello, no greeting whatsoever. Just, _that_. He drops his helmet by the door and kicks off his boots as quickly as he can, so many different scenarios running through his head. There's one he can't shake, the thought that this might be the greatest thing.

He rushes over and sits next to her, pulling her hands into his immediately. "What is it? What happened?"

But the look on her face is not the one he expected it to be, is not the one he wants it to be. Something in him deflates. His eyes drop toward her stomach only slightly and he tries not to look too disappointed. _I'm pregnant_. That's all he wants to hear. Dammit, Goddammit.

"Wentworth visited me at school today," she blabs. The mood shifts, though Gale's sure it wasn't as happy as he thought it was originally. "He offered me a promotion."

"Madge!" Or maybe it is. Gale laughs and squeezes her hands tightly. "That's great! That's so great!"

"_No_, Gale," she whimpers. His face falls as her eyes blurt with tears. "It's not great. It's not great at all." She dives into his chest and his arms instinctively wrap around her, no matter how confused he is. "It's a government job," she cries. He can feel her tears leaking through his shirt and he only pulls her closer. "They w-want to give me money and a house in t-town and—"

"What's so bad about that?" he wonders. His hands rub comforting circles on her back as she continues to shake her head. "I don't understand, Madge."

"I'd be the-the District 12 overseer," she stutters. Madge clings tighter to him and pulls his shirt toward her in knots. "I'd have to make all the calls about education, _all_ of them. What's being taught, who's teaching it, all of it. I'd be in control of the jobs and whether I agree with the teaching style or not I'd be forced to fire people that do great work." She sniffles and shakes her head. "They want me to be their puppet, they want it to look like I'm giving all these orders and commands when it's really _them_. Curriculum and hours of the school day and what's being served for lunch if _anything _and—"

"Madge," he soothes her and still she shakes her head. "Breathe, baby."

"Mr. Yeun, the old overseer, he… I asked around today and h-he," her words are choppy and choked. "He's _dead_, Gale. They killed him because he didn't do what they wanted him to do." Finally Madge pulls away from his chest, and Gale instantly cups her cheeks. His thumbs brush the tears away from under her eyes. "The house would be bug-bugged," she continues weakly. "And if I said anything against the government, anything against _a-anything_ they wanted—"

"_Madge_—"

"They'd kill me, too."

"Then don't take it," he croaks. His eyes are wide as he tries to make his point. "Don't take the promotion, tell them you don't want it."

"I can't just _do_ that," she cries.

"Tell them you just want to be a teacher," he exclaims. "That you're thankful for the offer but you just want to be a teacher."

"I _do _just want to be a teacher," Madge whimpers. Gale's chest constricts as he remembers a conversation he had with her not so long ago. _I want to change a child's life_, Madge had said. It was the only thing she had ever wanted, to make a difference for the kids in her classroom. "I wouldn't even _see_ the kids like this."

Gale pulls her to his chest again. Her arms wrap around his neck and his around her waist. She shudders as he noses into her neck. "Just say no, Madge. Tell them no."

"I'm so scared," Madge sobs. Gale squeezes her tighter as though he can stop her from shaking. "I'm so _scared, _Gale. What if they don't t-take that for an answer?"

"They will," he promises. But she continues to cry, and he's not so sure, and all he can do is hold her closer and promise things he shouldn't be promising at all.

* * *

_A/N: WOO A NEW CHAPTER THAT ISN'T EIGHT YEAR LATE WOOO I was in a writey mood and it just exploded out of me. Yikes, man. To all of the above. Thoughts?_


	11. Meadow Escapades

He warns her to be careful.

Madge knows turning down Mr. Wentworth's offer is a dangerous thing to do. She was up all night, as was Gale to comfort her, running the situation over and over again in her head. It could happen this way or it could happen that way but she knows that no matter how many different ways she pictures it, whatever happens with Mr. Wentworth is not what she'll be expecting.

The entire day she's a little off, balancing on her toes and rocking on her heels and reminding herself to breathe and just get through the lesson just _get through the lesson_. And finally, when the bell rings, she feels her heart stuttering nervously in her chest.

Exactly five minutes after her classroom is void of children and Madge is, once again, cleaning the chalkboard when she hears the heavy footsteps of the overseer of education. She lowers the eraser slowly and places it on the ledge, turning around with the most sincere smile she can manage.

"Mrs. Hawthorne," Wentworth smiles as well, though it's much less golden and much colder. "I've come for the papers, signing you into the job."

Madge steps forward and grabs the manila folder she's left on her folder all throughout the school day. "Mr. Wentworth," she says carefully, "you told me that it was an offer, it wasn't necessary I take it."

Clearly this answer surprises the man in the door. "Excuse me?"

"I've thought it over," she says quietly, "and discussed things with my husband." Madge hesitates. She can feel her ribs pressing on her lungs. "I became a teacher so I could work one on one with the children," Madge says, "not to decide who gets a job and who doesn't, not to design the curriculum." Mr. Wentworth's smile was gone a long time ago but now there's a scowl in the place of it. "I'm honored that you think I would do so well in the position but right now, I don't think—"

Suddenly he snatches the manila folder from her hands. "Mrs. Hawthorne," his voice is stern. "I _advise_ that you think about this."

"I have thought about it," Madge says. "I've thought about it for a very long time. I want to be with the children, Mr. Wentworth, not in some office all day." She shakes her head, though she's sure her entire body is shaking at this point. "I'm sorry to have to reject the offer. And truthfully, I'm so honored you thought me right for the position."

He stands quietly for a moment, blinking a few times before nodding curtly. Then he smiles. Unlike before where it was cold, now it's just… sinister. Madge unwillingly takes a step back and uses her desk to keep herself standing.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he says, "but no worries, Margaret. I'll be seeing you soon anyway."

And then he's gone, leaving her in the suffocating silence of her own classroom.

* * *

When Gale asks Madge about how her meeting with her overseer went, she's much too calm for anything good to come out of it. She nods and smiles and quietly recounts the experience for him as though it isn't a big deal at all. She even smiles. He doesn't push her further, because once he catches her wiping her eyes with the back of her hands as to keep it secret from him. Gale comforts her by holding her close.

Only when it starts to get dark does Madge start talking again. "I think we should go see Prim, or the doctor in town," Madge says. Gale slides his hands around her waist questioningly and she leans backwards against his chest.

"What for?"

"Fertility treatments." Gale nearly leaps at the mention of pregnancy and tightens his hold around her. "Maybe there's some sort of remedy. I'm not saying I can't get pregnant I just think it might help if our chances are increased a little bit. You know?" Gale's nodding instantly, a smile stretching so wide across his face that his cheeks start to ache. "If nothing's working then we—"

"Of course, Madge. Definitely. Yes. Whatever you want!" he laughs and tugs her hips so she turns to face him. Her eyes are bright, too, her smile tiny. "You really think it'll help?"

"It couldn't hurt," she says. Madge shrugs slightly and lifts her hands to his cheeks. "I want a family with you, Gale, and I'm getting tired of waiting."

He lets out an airy laugh and drops his mouth down to hers, kissing her greedily. His smile is so great his kisses end up inconsistent and sloppy. "I love you," he breathes between them. "I'll do whatever you want, I just want to be with you and I want this family and I want this, I want this more than _anything_." She smiles again, but it's not as strong. Gale brushes strands of her hair behind her ear and his smile falls. "What's wrong?"

"No, no nothing's wrong." Gale cocks an eyebrow. "What if we can't have a child because… because…" she trails off as he kisses her nose. "What if we can't have a kid because when I thought I was pregnant neither of us wanted it," she whispers. Gale shakes his head but Madge's eyes fill with tears. "You don't know that," she croaks. "What if this is our karma, what we deserve, what if—"

"Stop it," Gale growls. "That's not real, Madge. Karma and punishments," he continues to shake his head. "We're not being punished. We didn't do anything wrong." Her chin quivers and he wipes below her eyes. "You'll see. Okay? One day we're going to have seven little Hawthorne's running around here and I'm going to remind you of this conversation and you're going to laugh."

And now, she laughs. "Seven?"

"What?" he grins. "Not seven? Eight, then?" Madge pushes his shoulder and he wraps his arms around her, squeezing tightly. "Seven, or three, or even just one," he murmurs. "It doesn't matter to me, as long as they're with you."

* * *

They decide to visit the doctor in town rather than Prim or Mrs. Everdeen, not wanting to burden either of them with the weight of the situation. They splurge for the visit but neither of them minds. Gale keeps his hand laced with Madge's while they sit in the waiting room, his thumb gently rubs over hers. They need something to distract them, and this is clearly it. Gale from the strike that's been lingering in the back of his thoughts and Madge with whatever happened with the overseer.

"Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne," a woman's voice comes out. Gale looks toward Madge and nods, and together they stand. A woman wearing pale blue scrubs and stringy copper hair leads them back down a dingy hallway. This may be the nicest doctor's office available to the couple, but that doesn't mean it's _nice_.

They live in District 12. Nothing is ever nice here. The hallways are swept clean and the lights are as bright as they can be, but there's still that overhanging sense of coal dust and gloom. The monitors they have are old and go out a lot of the time, but it's better than nothing.

Finally they reach a room and the woman ushers the two in, allowing them to take a seat across a giant wooden desk from her. She smiles politely at them as she settles into her own seat.

"My name is Doctor Aria," she says, "I'm so pleased to meet you." The way her voice flows is genuine and kind, and Gale feels safe in this room. "On the file it said that you two were having trouble conceiving, is that true?"

"Yes," Madge nods. "We've been trying a little under six months and it usually doesn't take that long. Does it?"

"Well every case is different," Doctor Aria tells them. "Have you two considered the possibility that it's impossible for you to conceive?" Both Madge and Gale fall silent. Gale reaches for her hand and finds that she's reaching for him as well. "I see," Aria nods. "Well, um, we could start there if you—"

"No," Gale's voice comes out hard. Doctor Aria nods and Madge drops her gaze to the floor. "Not yet. I don't want to do that yet."

"I understand. Then you're here for something that could boost fertility, I'm assuming?" Doctor Aria pulls out a drawer and from it extracts a large book. She flips through it and Madge squeezes his hand a bit tighter. He glances at her but she doesn't turn to face him, Madge only stares at the doctor in front of them. "Other than not being able to have a child how is sex life at home?"

Gale can't help but smirk as he watches Madge's cheeks turn pink. "It's normal," he answers.

"Good, good." She stops on a page. "Ah, here we are." She frowns. "We have a few bottles in stock of a Capitol produced medication that will increase chances of fertilization tenfold, but it's expensive." She looks up at the two. "Have you tried home remedies yet? There are plenty of things I've heard that could work just as well as the drink, but are much less expensive." Gale inches forward but Madge pulls him back, jerking her head to the side. "I'll give you two a moment to discuss things," the doctor says before standing, handing the book over to Gale, and leaving them alone in the dusty room.

When the door clicks shut Madge lets out a deep breath. Gale's eyes dance over the number on the page, the price of the drink that is said to help.

"We can't afford it," Madge says before he can say anything. Gale frowns, but he knows that she's right. "It would work, everything from the Capitol works, but we can't…"

"You're the one that wanted to come here, Madge," Gale reminds her tiredly as he drops her hand. "This was your idea."

"I know," she murmurs, "I just—I don't know." The appointment itself cost enough, they should at least get something out of it. "I want them to check," Madge blurts. Gale places the book back on the desk and turns to his wife, feeling his stomach clench. "To see if I'm fertile."

He's quiet before he decides, "Then they'll check me, too."

"Gale—"

"It's not a one way street, Madge! Without both of us there's nothing." She sighs again and looks up toward him. "If that's what this was all about why didn't you just tell me?" With one look at her face he knows the answer, and he knows why she didn't tell him, and why she _won't _tell him. She's scared. It's because she's scared out of her mind. "Madge," he whispers. Gale reaches for her just as there's a knock on the door, and then the doctor peeks in.

"Everything okay?" she asks.

Gale looks at Madge who won't look at before turning to the doctor. "We want you to test us," Gale rasps. Madge looks toward the ground and knits her eyebrows. "To see if we're fertile."

* * *

The fertility results will take a month to get back to them, but before that comes the strike.

Gale doesn't realize how quickly two weeks can pass, two weeks since the last time the miners met in Landon's house and Gale founds out that Landon was the one who reported him for hunting. Tomorrow is the strike, tomorrow they take their stand and demand better working conditions. Tomorrow is the beginning of something new.

It's Sunday afternoon and Madge is at the kitchen table working on that piano piece again. She's humming things under her breath and scratching things out with her pencil and sighing in frustration, clearly wanting to rip up the piece in front of her. It's been a week since their doctor visit, and a week since her overseer came to see her. She's been a bit off balance since then, but she tells Gale she's just nervous about the results and wishes they would come sooner.

Gale drums his fingers over his knee as he watches her, trying to memorize every little detail of her. Just in case. Things can either go really well tomorrow, or really poorly. He wants to make sure that if things start to look dark he can look toward his own personal piece of sunshine to cheer him up, to give him comfort.

"Madge," he blurts. She jerks her hand up and shushes him for a moment before scratching something out on her paper. Then she looks up again, her eyebrows lifted in question. "What are you doing tonight?"

She lets out a confused laugh and shrugs. "It's a Sunday, Gale. I'll probably just grade some papers like always. Maybe go to bed early." Madge's thin pink lips curl upwards. "Why?"

"Let's go on a date." She laughs again but Gale stands and makes his way toward her. "I'm serious, Madge. When's the last time we ever did something like that?" He lowers himself to the chair next to her, finding her hand quickly and lacing their fingers. "Let's go to the meadow. Hm? It's not freezing at night anymore, maybe just a little cold. You and me, like old times."

She continues to smile at him oh so sweetly. It makes his heart stutter against his ribcage. "Should you bring the liquor or should I?" she asks.

Gale chuckles and shakes his head. Before the two had started dating they shared plenty of drinks in the meadow as they talked. But there won't be any of that tonight. "Neither. Come on, what do you say? We'll have dinner and then go out and watch the stars."

She laughs a little, and though it's clear she's confused she nods. "Okay. I'll go on a date with you."

* * *

It's nighttime and the two are in the meadow. Gale has his arms around Madge and her back is resting against his chest. His chin is on her shoulder and every now and then he'll press a kiss to her neck. "Are you worried?" she asks him. Gale tugs her tighter. "About the results?" He's quiet for a long time, kissing her neck gently. "I am."

"Don't be," he murmurs. He hates it, that they sent away for that. Why wouldn't they be able to have kids? There's no doubt in his mind that they're both fertile. He only did it because she wanted it. There's a piece of him that's angry she even suggested the test. "It'll be okay. I said it once and I'll say it again, Madge. When we've got our kids running around screaming their heads off you're going to laugh that you were so worried."

She sighs, "You're so sure."

"I am," Gale nods. "We should talk names."

"Names?" Madge suddenly giggles and turns to face him, finding Gale with his eyebrows high on his forehead and a smile on his lips. "For kids?"

"Why not?"

"You're a little ahead of the game," she says, as his hands inch away from her hips to rest on her stomach. They sit silently for a moment, observing the quiet peacefulness of the meadow and staring at the bright shining stars in the sky. "What about Vick?"

Gale is silent too before he answers, "No. He'd hate it." Then he laughs a bit. "He'd say something like he doesn't want anyone to have to live up to his namesake. Because he was so great, of course."

"Of course," Madge smiles. Vick and Madge were close when he was alive, much closer than Gale and Madge were at first. She treated him like an equal and respected him, despite the fact that he was much younger than her. It was one of the things that Vick pointed out to Gale whenever they fought, that at least Madge treated him like an adult. "Maybe Maysilee?"

"Maysilee? Like your aunt?"

"Yes," Madge nods. "I think my mother would be the same about having a child named after her. She'd think it was tacky, but I never knew Maysilee, and she was known for being strong and brave."

"On that account we should use the name Madge," Gale chuckles.

"Mmm," Madge laughs, "you are such a charmer." Again they resume the silence, Madge's hands rubbing circles on his knees where they rest and Gale gently kissing her neck. "I know what this is for," she finally blurts. Gale tenses a bit. "The strike. It's tomorrow, isn't it?" Gale lets out a thick breath before nodding his head. "Why didn't you tell me?" she whispers.

"I didn't want you to worry," he murmurs.

"So you would rather me just find out tomorrow?" she rasps. Gale holds tightly to her hips but she manages to spin around and face him anyway. Her eyebrows are knit and her blue gaze is so sad. "I've been worried this _whole_ time," Madge whimpers. "I'm _constantly_ worried. We've got so much going on all the time and now with this—"

"It's going to be okay," Gale cuts her off. His hands release their hold from her sides and carefully travel up her arms before cupping her cheeks. "You have nothing to be afraid of."

"But I am," she says. "And you should be, too."

"No." Gale tilts her chin up. "I'm tired of being afraid." He kisses her gently and feels the tension melt from her. "Things are going to be different," he whispers. Gale kisses her again, and this time her hands reach up to tug on his shirt. She pulls him closer, so close that they lose balance and Gale ends up hovering over her, instilling kiss after sweet kiss.

They had been like this before, tangled in each other in the meadow on a clear starry night, but it had been so much different then. No worries hanging over their heads, no fears. Just two lovers. Now, as husband and wife, they've had to face more problems than ever before.

Gale keeps himself propped up, one hand behind her on the ground and the other gently caressing her cheek. Madge arches into him and knots her fingers in his hair, causing him to groan into her mouth and almost fall on top of her.

They're like this for a long time, Madge's shirt slowly inching upwards alongside Gale's as they lose themselves in each other, before they hear someone clear their throat.

Gale sits up so quickly Madge falls to the ground and lets out a tiny _oof_. There's a peacekeeper in the meadow, his hands folded as he stares at them. "Is something wrong?" Gale rasps. His voice is raw and his lips are swollen.

"It's very late," the peacekeeper says sternly. "I suggest you two make your way on home."

Madge sits up and tugs her shirt down. "There's no curfew, sir," she says, not entirely meeting his gaze.

"I suggest you two make your way home," the peacekeeper repeats. "Before there's any trouble."

Gale frowns as the man stalks off, and then quickly helps Madge stand so they can get home. "It's not even that late," he frowns, "and the peacekeepers never make rounds out here at night. Especially on Sundays."

"Don't worry about it," Madge laces her hand with his and pulls him along quickly. "I was thinking we should get back anyway. If we had gone any further we might've been jailed for public indecency."

Gale grins and quickly follows. "Yeah," he agrees, "I much prefer being the only one to see you indecent."

By the time they get home they've both forgotten about the peacekeeper, and neither of them are worried about what tomorrow might bring.

* * *

_A/N: Strike! Strike! Strike! Next chapter, baby. How'd you like this one? Let me know your favorite part. Off to nap now, love you all. _


End file.
